Trail of Blood
by Jomel10
Summary: Set after The Dark Knight. The Joker escapes from Arkham and goes on the rampage. He hunts for the Batman but the Bat won't play. So the Joker ups the odds... Joker/Gordon. Violence/dark fic. Rating - Hard T. COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

This is my first fic in this fandom so please be kind!

This will be a two part story and will get very nasty in the next part :) Nothing squicky here though.

Disclaimer - I own nothing.

Please read and review! Thank you :)

**Trail of Blood**

It was half past eleven in Gotham City and most of the city's respectable citizens were safely tucked away in bed. No such luck for any of the city's police department. They were all still hard at work, either at the station or out on patrol and had been since the middle of the day. Since it had happened.

Commissioner James Gordon sat in his office, his head in his hands. A glass of whiskey sat in front of him, untouched. He leant back in his chair and sighed. He didn't normally like to show any sign of weakness; it wasn't good for his men's morale. This had been an especially chaotic day for him. He took off his glasses and rubbed his forehead worriedly, trying to soothe the headache that insisted in bothering him for hours.

It had to be that freak didn't it?

Anyone could have made it out of Arkham; any number of the prisoners there could have been the one set free. But no, it wasn't any of them.

Of course, it just had to be the Joker.

What was Gordon meant to do? How many more people were going to have to die that day? People looked to him for answers and to keep them safe but right at that moment, he felt inadequate. They had stopped the Joker before but that had been thanks to someone else. Someone who the policy department themselves had forced undercover.

Gordon had no idea where to even start looking for him. How exactly do you go about finding a man that you had hunted for six months, no matter how reluctantly? A person you had allowed the media to tear apart, the public to despise and fear?

Where would a bat hide?

A soft knocking brought Jim out of his musings.

"Commissioner?"

Gordon looked up to find one of his rookies hovering by the door.

"Yes, eh Behman isn't it?"

"Yes sir. Sorry sir, but there's another news item. He's sent them another message."

Gordon frowned.

"More killings?"

"Not yet, sir. He says there will be if Batman doesn't face him. And he says this time, everyone will sit up and take notice."

Gordon rolled his eyes.

"The bastard and his thugs walk into a primary school in the middle of the day; he cuts up two teachers live on TV and then cheerfully blows the building up, with thirty children inside, as he stands by and laughs? And he thinks the city isn't paying attention?"

Behman didn't seem to know how to answer his superior. He stayed silent.

Gordon rose from his desk and began to walk towards the young man.

"How long have you been here, Behman?"

"Three months, sir. Only just graduated this year."

Jim sighed. "I guess you didn't sign up for nights like this, huh son?"

"Well, actually sir, yes I did."

Gordon eyed the young man, who hesitated for one second before continuing; "One of the kids in that explosion today; she was a pal's daughter, only six years old. When we catch that insane shithouse who laughed as innocent children got blown to bits, I wanna be there. I wanna watch him suffer for a change."

Gordon's expression was that of sadness. "I'm very sorry to hear that, Behman. Pass my sympathies onto your friend." He went to move past the rookie but paused and looked back. "Remember though Behman, animals like the Joker strive on feelings like revenge and hate. That is what he lives for. If you do meet him, put any thoughts like that quickly out of your mind or he will make you regret them."

Leaving Behman to gaze after him, Jim walked through another doorway, into the main area, which was alive with activity. The television screens were showing constant repeats of the Joker's most recent announcement and Gordon grimaced as he watched the crazed clown laughing hysterically. He frowned; there was too much noise around him, he couldn't hear a thing!

"Turn that up!" He shouted over the din. Someone hurried to obey.

Gordon, eyes narrowing in anger, stared up into the painted face of the hated mass murderer and as he heard his words, his stomach knotted.

"Beloved people of Gotham. I'm speaking to you once again on this fateful day as I don't want any one else to die. I didn't want those kiddies to die! I gave you and him a choice, told you all you could save their lives but you all chose to ignore me. Twenty minutes was the time I gave you and him but I got no reply. I assumed you thought I was playing. Big mistake. He stayed away, you decided to hide him, and those kids paid the price. I don't want to use the word coward, but maybe you should make up your own minds."

Gordon's hatred for the man intensified. He still wanted Gotham to turn on Batman, to watch the city cave in on itself due to fear and horror and pain. And when he forced Batman to be exiled, Gordon himself helped the Joker do that. Again, the feelings of guilt and regret intensified.

The Joker was still talking. "So, this time I'm addressing you directly, Batman. You can't keep on hiding in the shadows. I need you, you need me. It's simple. I promise you, more will die. And the next deaths won't be quick and painless like those poor little kiddies you let me blow to bits. And this time, they will be people that mean something to you. Come and find me, Batman. Or this city will keep on suffering for your cowardice. You'll know where to find me. Keep watching the news. And, don't make me wait much longer. As you know, I'm not a patient man!"

With one little wave, the screen went black. And the video immediately started again.

Gordon continued to stare for a moment, glaring into nothing. Finally, he turned to his officers, who were all watching and waiting for his instructions.

"Have there been any sightings of Batman?"

"Not for months, Commissioner. The whole of Gotham has seen these videos; the Joker's got everyone running scared. Again. Either Batman is far away or he's ignoring this. Either way, he ain't coming to help us."

Gordon looked up sharply at the man speaking, noting the dislike in his voice.

"And you expect him to just fly to the rescue, is that it? After the way we shunned him, hunted him like a beast and labeled him a murderer? You really think he'll want to aid us now? Aid me?"

The officers exchanged glances.

Stephens cleared his throat. "You declared him a killer, Commissioner. You told us to hunt him down. The whole city turned against him, because of you."

Gordon turned abruptly towards Stephens, as if he wanted to shout at the man, but managed to stop himself.

"You're right", he whispered, dejectedly. "I know you're right."

"Sir," another voice spoke up. "We've found no clues from the wreckage of the school. The men have been searching for hours and bodies are still being identified."

Gordon nodded. "Call them out, they can resume the search in the morning. We won't find any clues leading to the Joker, unless he wants us too."

Again, the detectives looked from one to the other, concern on all of their faces. Gordon could see their uncomfortable glances and he understood their worries. They weren't used to seeing him so defeated. But he couldn't help but feel deflated. He should have expected something like this. It only took one nutter who saw the Joker as "revolutionary" to decide to break him out and chaos would reign once again. And that was exactly what had happened. And the one man the Joker seemed to care about or have anything like respect for was unreachable.

Why did Gordon ever agree to Batman's insane request? Just to save Harvey Dent's reputation? Dent couldn't help them now, could he? Only the Dark Knight could save them and he remained in the shadows.

And for that, Gordon blamed himself.

But, now was not the time to be showing so much weakness. His men and Gotham needed their Commissioner to be on the ball. Giving himself a hard shake, Jim turned quickly again to his men and began to issue instructions, which they seemed very relieved to receive.

"We need to get some more patrol cars out on the street. Stephens, see to it. We want to make sure people aren't panicking. We need to keep combing as much of those streets out there as we can. The Joker is unlikely to slip up but if he does, I want to make it count."

His tone softened.

"Some of you have been here nearly twenty four hours. Even been personally affected by today's tragedies. Those people should try and get some sleep when they can. Everyone else, get back to work. No one else is going to die today." He swallowed hard before adding; "We're in for a long night, so lets get to it."

"You've got that right, Commissioner."

The officers whirled round in complete shock to find the Joker striding into the room, hands by his side, his eyes trained on Gordon's. Jim's gaze immediately flickered to the Joker's right hand, in which he grasped a gun.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!"

Jim stared at the unholy clown, at the same time both horrified and astounded by the murderer's audacious entrance.

The Joker bowed to him.

"Why so grim, Commissioner?" The Joker asked.

Before Gordon had a chance to reply, masked men stormed into the room and surrounded the police officers, each clutching machine guns. They stood, covering the stunned detectives, waiting for instructions. The Joker, still staring at Gordon, stepped back slowly and nodded. In a split second, Gordon realized what this signal meant and opened his mouth to yell to his men to take cover – but it was much too late.

The masked thugs opened fire with glee and a steady stream of bullets tore into the defenseless detectives. The terrible sound of thunderous noise and terrified screams filled the air as man after man fell, either dead or gravely injured. Many got off some shots of their own and a few of their adversaries also suffered deadly hits but the machine gun fire was just too brutal to fight against for long. Finally, the room fell silent. Only moans and sobs could be heard.

Jim opened his eyes, finding himself on the floor, unsure if he had been hit. A quick check of his body told him that he was one of the lucky ones. He was dimly aware of a weight on top of him and reasoned that he had been knocked out of harm's way. He was struggling to dislodge the dead weight pinning him down when he heard the Joker ordering his men to stop.

Then came that sinister, maniacal laughter. The Joker's trademark. It was soft though, and cold.

"Well, well, well. I'm slightly disappointed in Gotham's finest, it has to be said. That was astonishingly easy." The Joker was stepping over the bodies, giving sly kicks to the wounded or dying. He appeared to be looking for someone. He was enjoying himself immensely and that fact made Gordon sick to his stomach.

With a moan of effort, he shoved out at the man lying on top of him and finally, the man rolled over, away from him. The Joker turned at the sound and his eyes widened when he saw the cause. "Good." He drawled and gestured to two of his men to drag Gordon up.

Jim struggled but was held too tight. All he could do was glare at the Joker as he approached. The clown was holding a knife and twirling it in his fingers. Jim's eyes couldn't help but be drawn to it, the shine of it. He wondered if the Joker wanted to play? If he did, life didn't look so cosy for Jim Gordon at that moment – and he was scared.

Jim's eyes swept the room. At least five of his colleagues were dead and a good many more wounded. The floor was turning crimson red and the Joker walked through the blood, the red staining his shoes. This was no man; all Jim could see was the devil.

Finally, the Joker reached him. They regarded each other for a moment before the Joker grabbed Jim's hair and yanked his head back, causing the police chief to groan in pain. The Joker almost lovingly drew the knife across Jim's throat, just nicking his skin, enough to make him wince.

The Joker bared his teeth and then pulled the knife away. He wiped the blood away with his finger, which he then put into his mouth and sucked it clean.

Gordon was sickened.

"I see your time in Arkham hasn't done you any good, Joker."

The Joker tilted his head to one side. "You've learned new tricks while I've been away too, haven't you Commissioner? I've been hearing all over the place, you've been tidying up the streets some more, without the help of your batty friend? Isn't that right?"

Gordon said nothing.

The Joker tutted. "You know though Commissioner, there's still some pointers I could give you. Such as defending your base. I've killed double the amount from last time, haven't I?" And the Joker laughed in Gordon's face.

A voice from the floor spoke up. "Leave him alone, you murdering asshole."

The Joker scrunched up his face, confused. He turned around slowly, a questioning look to one of his lackeys. The masked man nodded and pointed out one of their captives out. With a sigh, the Joker held up his gun and shot the cop in the head. The man let out a gurgling sound and then slumped lifelessly to the ground.

Gordon swallowed hard as the Joker turned back to him. "Silly boy," the clown slurred.

Jim looked over at the dead man and saw it was the rookie, Behman. Jim stared at the broken body, trying to fathom out what had just happened, and how. This had been a young man, so fresh. What was the purpose or point of his death? Apart from too please the sick desires of a madman.

Jim, his heart heavy, looked down at the gun in the Joker's hand.

"A silencer?" He inquired.

"Well spotted," the Joker replied. He tapped the gun against Gordon's arm. "It's how I got into here without too much trouble. Sorry about your poor little girl at the front desk, I made quite a mess of her pretty blouse. Oh yes, the uniforms out in the front, none of them made it either." He attempted a sad face but it didn't come off. He shrugged. "What can I say, Commissioner? I'm just one happy guy!"

Gordon's eyes swept the room. Those men who had survived had been rounded up and herded into a corner of the room. The Joker's men were stood around them, all their guns aimed and ready. Jim knew the order would come; that the Joker was just buying his time. And time is what Jim needed. He had to keep the scum talking.

As calmly as he could muster, Gordon asked; "What is it that you want?"

The Joker again looked confused. He gestured towards the TV screens. "Haven't you been watching the news, Commissioner? I thought I made it pretty clear what it is I want. The Batman."

Gordon said nothing. The Joker moved in closer.

"Why didn't he come?"

"I don't know."

The Joker pouted. He pulled his knife out again, examined it and brushed it against Jim's face. The Commissioner tried hard not to flinch. He was also very aware that the manic still held a gun in his other hand. One wrong step here and he and the rest of his department were dead.

"Will you call him?" The Joker whispered. It was almost as if he was beseeching Gordon.

"I can't."

"DON'T LIE TO ME!"

Jim started at the Joker's sudden change in volume. The man seemed more unhinged than ever, if that were possible. Gordon thought back to something the Joker had said, in this very station, to Jim's dark friend. "You complete me." Jim felt that the Joker truly did believe that. He couldn't exist without Batman. And the Joker would find his adversary, whatever it took.

"I'm not lying," he said calmly. "Things have changed while you've been in Arkham, as you mentioned. I don't think you've been told the whole story."

"You tell me then."

Gordon swallowed. "Batman killed five people the night you were caught. I had no choice, I cut all ties with him and labeled him a murderer. We've been hunting him ever since. The whole city has shunned him. He's hated here and for good reason."

The Joker had listened intently but now he asked; "What reason?"

Gordon hesitated. Again, the Joker's knife was held to his throat. "_What reason_?"

"One of the men he killed was Harvey Dent!"

The Joker stopped. He gazed at Gordon, apparently trying to find a hint of a lie on his face. Then, he began to laugh.

Even the Joker's own thugs were unnerved by their boss' reaction to this news. Gordon could feel that in the growing uncertainty of the men holding him, their grips had, unbeknownst to them, lessened. Jim couldn't dare pull free though, it would be his men that would suffer.

"Let's go and call him." The Joker said, softly. "Let's go to the roof, Commissioner."

Gordon paled. His heart sank.

"I told you, I can't."

"And you're lying to me. Harvey isn't dead. He's comatose in Arkham. He killed those men, not Batman. As I said, you're lying." The Joker paused as he noticed the stunned expressions on that of Gordon's men. Stephens, holding onto a wound on his arm, was shaking his head in disbelief.

"A leader should never lie to his slaves, Commissioner. Where will the trust be now?"

Jim was trapped. He couldn't call Batman but the Joker would never believe him. He would have to try and bluff it to give his men some chance of getting out of there alive.

He was a dead man and he knew it. He didn't have to take those that had foolishly trusted him along with him.

"Okay," he said, gaining a chuckle from the Joker. "But I want you to release those men first."

The Joker raised an eyebrow.

"That doesn't sound like much fun for me?"

"Maybe not," Gordon said, "but that's the deal. You want me to play your game? You play mine and let my men, including the dead and wounded, leave here."

The Joker was obviously of two minds. He'd promised his men a bloodbath but he needed Gordon for his plan. In the end, there was only one decision he could make.

"They can leave, if they go now. And if any brave man tries to get back inside here to rescue you, I'll slice them up in front of you. How's that deal sound, Commissioner?"

Gordon swallowed hard. To be left alone with this madman and a handful of thugs all baying for his blood did not sound inviting but he owed his people their freedom. And he wouldn't let them down.

Jim nodded.

His team sounded their disapproval. Stephens jumped to his feet.

"Sir, we aren't leaving you here with him!"

Other officers voiced their agreement with the detective. None of them wanted to leave Gordon to what he felt was a deserved fate. He appreciated all of their loyalty but he needed them to see sense.

"Get out," he said. "Stay outside. Get the wounded to hospital and the dead seen too properly." He glanced at Stephens. "You all need to keep your heads. Gotham relies on us, on you. Don't let me down."

Not one man moved.

The Joker muttered under his breath. Jim knew he was growing impatient. He would wipe out the few men still living without a second thought, despite his agreement; unless Jim could get them out.

"Go." Gordon snapped. "That's an order!"

A beat.

"NOW!"

At last, he was obeyed.

Sheepishly, the men filed out, carrying their dead colleagues between them and aiding the wounded. Stephens was the last to leave, looking back at Gordon in sadness. Jim knew he would never see the man again. He nodded, trying to be encouraging. The detective turned to leave but was grabbed by the Joker. Gordon opened his mouth to complain but was silenced by a blow to his head by one of the men holding him.

The Joker leered at Stephens. "How many of your friends did I kill _this_ time?"

"You Bastard!" Stephens growled.

"Shh, shh. I have a request to make. I would like a helicopter."

Stephens scoffed. "Oh really?"

"Yes really." He rolled his eyes. "Unless you want me to send out one piece of Jim Gordon to you at a time?"

Stephens flinched. "Why a helicopter? You could escape now..."

The Joker laughed. "Escape? Oh no, you don't understand. I don't want to escape. I want to be on TV. I want journalists and reporters, in a helicopter, filming that roof in the next ten minutes. Or I start cutting." He seemed to think before adding meekly, "Please?"

What choice did Stephens have? "I'll see what I can do."

"That's a good idea. Now, go away."

With one last glance at Gordon, Stephens was gone.

The Joker began to clap loudly, just as Gordon had seen him do once before, when he had been promoted to Commissioner.

The Joker pointed to a door. Beyond it was the stairway leading to the roof.

"Shall we?" He taunted.

Gordon frowned. "This isn't going to do you any good. I can't lead you to Batman."

"We'll see."

The Joker jerked his head and the two men holding Jim began to drag him to the door. With a quick order to his remaining men to stay and make sure no one tried to enter, the Joker followed.

His wait was nearly over; he would see the Batman again soon. And until then, he was going to have himself some_ real _fun.

Ahead of him, Jim Gordon took a deep breath as he was forced up the stone steps. His ordeal was only just beginning.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks to everyone who read the first part of this story - and especially to those who reviewed :) Big hugs to you!**

**Here's part 2. Be warned, it's very dark and violent and includes a graphic sexual assault so if you're too young or if you don't like that sort of thing, please don't read this. **

**Please comment if you can. Comments are love!**

**Trail of Blood – Part 2**

The door was flung open and the cold air hit him hard. Jim, still being dragged along by the two thugs manhandling him, was thrown forward. Unable to keep his footing, he fell onto the rough roof floor, landing on one knee with a grunt.

Without even being able to catch his breath, he was grabbed once again, this time being shoved towards the one sight he really didn't want to see – the Bat Signal. He stared at the smashed light numbly, waiting for the Joker's instructions, knowing then that the madman would finally see that Gordon was not lying after all. And once the Joker knew Gordon was of no more use to him; Well, Jim just hoped it would be quick.

He tensed when he heard the footsteps behind him and then heard that soft, crazed chuckle that filled him with dread. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw the Joker skipping towards him, arms at his sides, clearly very excited. The clown stopped dead in front of Jim, leant in toward him and hissed; "Go ahead, Commissioner. Light up the night's sky!"

Gordon didn't reply.

The Joker tilted his head, confused. "Now, Gordon. I want you to do it _right now_!"

Again, Gordon ignored him.

The Joker raised his hand to strike Jim but was interrupted by one of his goons.

"Eh, Boss?"

The Joker frowned and looked across at the man, clearly annoyed.

"What?" He asked, curtly.

"Sorry boss but you better have a look at the light. Or what's left of it."

With a snarl, the Joker spun round and his eyes fixed on the broken signal; what he believed had been his best chance of contacting Batman. He looked back around at a smiling Gordon.

"You should try and keep up with the news next time you visit Arkham, Joker," Jim taunted. Perhaps it was a mistake to goad the clown but if these were going to be his last words, the commissioner damned well wanted them to be good. With a smirk, he added; "You'll avoid future disappointments then, won't you?"

The Joker said nothing. Instead, he reached into his jacket and pulled out his gun. He gawped at it for a moment, before calmly pointing the gun at Gordon's head. Jim held his breath as he saw the Joker's finger tightening on the trigger.

Gordon closed his eyes and thought of his family.

The Joker fired the gun. The silencer made the noise softer but it was still loud enough to make Jim start. Seconds past before it dawned on Jim that, to his complete astonishment, he was still alive. When, immediately afterwards, the vice grip on his shoulder suddenly disappeared, he was downright confused.

Opening his eyes slowly, Jim found that he was indeed no longer being held. The explanation was obvious; the Joker had decided to shoot the man that had been stupid enough to speak instead of him. The bullet had hit the man in his neck, killing him outright. The other brute had released Gordon at once and stepped away, shocked at the death of his colleague and obviously very nervous at what the Joker's next move was going to be.

The Joker, meanwhile, seemed completely unperturbed. Seeing Jim's questioning expression, he smiled.

"Oh, I was going to kill you but I changed my mind at the last second there." An exaggerated shrug. "Sorry."

The Joker turned away, walked to the edge of the roof and peered down.

"Lots of activity down there, Commissioner. Hey, they're trying to shout up to you! Looks like they've called in more troops too. Would you like to see?"

Gordon hesitated. He knew what action his men would have taken; how they were trained. They would have followed the orders he himself had set. All of the patrol cars would have been recalled, bringing in as many men as possible. A preimeter would then have been formed around the building and every man would now be waiting. The mayor would be on his way, if he wasn't down there already, probably being very unhelpful and tiresome, no doubt getting in the way.

It dawned on Gordon that not one of those men could save him. He may as well be on a different planet. Only one man could help him now – and Jim couldn't blame him for wanting to stay away.

The Joker was watching Jim expectantly. When Gordon didn't move off of his own accord, the clown gestured theatrically for his man to force Gordon over and the goon quickly obeyed.

"You realise he'll kill you too, don't you?" Jim hissed at the larger man, struggling against him now. As far as Jim was concerned, he was fighting for his life and he wasn't going to give it up easily. The Joker would get bored of tormenting Gordon eventually and that would be that.

"Yeah?" The thug retorted with a sneer. "I'll get to see you go first, you cop bastard."

The Joker moved forward to meet them.

"Now, now. No fighting!"

Pulling out his knife, he grabbed Jim by the side of his head and held him steady; placing the knife inside his victim's mouth. He was careful not to cut him – yet. The Joker still had some time to kill. He guffawed at his own silent joke.

Gordon was frozen to the spot, his eyes locked on the Joker's. Was it going to happen now? How do you prepare yourself for death? Would the Joker make it quick? He could hear the thug behind him, holding him so steady, chuckling in his ear. He was enjoying Gordon's discomfort a little too much. It made Jim's skin crawl.

The Joker broke the silence.

"Commissioner, do you want to know how I got these scars?"

Gordon flicked his head in a negative response. The Joker sighed.

"That's a shame, Commissioner." He sulked. "A real shame." Again, the Joker seemed to think things through before continuing. "It was a good story too. But, if you're ready to say goodnight..."

The Joker's grip on Jim's hair became painful and the crazed clown tightened his hold on the knife.

Just when Jim knew his time was up, when he was sure the Joker was going to cut him, his tormentor stopped and glanced to his left.

"At last," he murmured. Both Jim and the unnamed thug were gazing in confusion at the Joker. It was impossible for either of them to keep up with him.

"Listen," he urged them both. "Can't you hear it?"

Jim listened. Could he hear something? Was that – a helicopter? Hope hit him. Yes, it definitely was and it was getting closer.

The Joker began to laugh manically as, right on cue, the police helicopter roared up beside them, raising high above their heads. Jim stared at the machine, trying to figure out who was inside. His heart had soared up with the helicopter when he had first seen it. Help was coming at last. It took him some painful moments to realise that there were no police inside.

Two men were sitting beside the pilot, one with a microphone and the other with a very large camera, held unsteadily in front of him. Jim could see that the nearest man, no, the journalist was speaking furiously into his microphone. He was obviously reporting on what he was seeing and the cameraman was getting everything on film. Every moment of Gordon's defeat, his humiliation, would go down in television history. Jim had never felt so much despair. He tried to turn his head away, to hide, but was still held tightly by the Joker.

"What's wrong Commissioner? Why suddenly so camera shy?"

He began to wave madly at the helicopter and beckonned for it to come in closer. The pilot obeyed and the helicoper soon hovered almost directly above the three men on the roof.

The Joker cleared his throat and stepped forward. He spoke straight to the camera.

"Hello again, my friends of Gotham!"

The Joker released Jim and shoved him to the ground. Gordon lay where he had fallen, trying to catch his breath. The clown moving to stand beside his lackey, who was clearly exhilarated by the events. Both men were now stood by the edge of the building, gazing down at the madness and lights below.

With a bow, The Joker again addressed the city.

"I know the whole city will be watching this broadcast. And I mean _everyone_!I don't need to tell you what will happen to your kind, good, pure Commissioner if I don't get what I want do I?"

He smirked at Gordon who was now crouched on the ground, looking up at the Joker with hatred.

"And you all know what I want. OR actually, who I want. Someone out there knows where the Batman is. Someone knows who he is. Well, do me and poor old Jim here a favor." He held out his arms. "Come and tell me. Show yourselves."

Another glance at Jim.

"Are you really going to let your friend suffer, Batman? I don't think so. Better hurry though. As I said this afternoon as those children screamed, I'm getting bored of waiting. I don't like being bored. Sometimes, I just go _crazy_!"

Too prove his point; the Joker, moving faster than lightning, whipped out his knife and cleanly slit his own gang member's throat from left to right, in plain view of the camera.

Gordon drew away in horror. He hadn't expected that. He couldn't stop staring at the blood flowing from the man's neck. There was so much of it. It dripped down the man's clothes, landing on the ground, not far from where Gordon was slumped. He backed off until he was leaning against a wall, still unable to look away from the horrific sight before him. Jim had seen grotesque images before; his job had meant he'd seen a lot more death than the average man. But this whole day had been like a terrible dream for him. And he wasn't about to wake up from it anytime soon.

With a sly giggle, the Joker pushed the now bloodless body away from him. It slipped over the side of the roof and fell out of sight. Jim closed his eyes, trying not to picture what the body would look like when it hit the ground. The man had been a thug and a piece of scum but did he really deserve a death like that? And now, Jim really was all alone with the Joker. And judging by the smile on the madman's face when he again turned to face him, the horrors of the night had barely even begun.

Gordon flinched as the Joker stepped towards him, the knife now dripping with blood still clutched in his right hand.

"Well Commissioner, just you and me. Lets give them a show, shall we?"

He lunged out with the knife, wounding Gordon's face. Jim winced in pain. He knew he had a nasty gash on his cheek. _Just the start_, he reasoned.

The Joker suddenly burst out laughing. With an eager "ta-da!", he revealed that he was holding a metal pipe in his left hand. He had been hiding it behind his back. Jim stared at it with weary eyes.

"You should have been more careful what you left up here, Gordon." The Joker taunted him.

Jim said nothing. He wouldn't give the Joker the satisfaction.

With one quick glance at the helicopter to ensure the reporters were still doing their jobs, the Joker than raised the pole above his head and brought it down hard on Gordon's arm.

Jim cried out. He couldn't help himself. The pain was so sudden and it _hurt_.

Blow after blow rained down on Gordon. He tried to fight back, knocking the Joker off balance at one point but the other man soon regained the upper hand. He brought the pipe down on Gordon wilth all his might.

When he wasn't using the pipe, the Joker was kicking, hitting and scratching at his victim. All Jim could do was put his arms up to try to block the cruel beating but the Joker was incensed. Soon, each blow with the pipe was landing on the defenseless man's chest and legs. Jim knew that many of his ribs would be surely broken and he would be covered head to toe in huge bruises and welts. He wondered if the Joker, having lost all control, would actually go further than planned and end Gordon's misery himself, accidentally beating him to death.

As soon as the thought entered Jim's head, the beating stopped. Gordon opened his eyes fearfully to find the Joker stooped over him, breathing hard. It would seem the man had tired himself out. He laughed softly.

"Do you think that got the message across, Commissioner?"

Suddenly, the Joker's head snapped round and he let out an furious shout. Gordon moaned in pain as he attempted to sit up, his broken body outraged at the movement. Jim needed to see for himself what had angered the Joker.

He soon saw.

The helicopter was gone.

Gordon smiled as he wiped the blood away from his lip. May as well enjoy himself while he still could. He needed to show the Joker that he was still there, still fighting him.

"You mean, you didn't know the helicopter had been called away?" A pained cough. "Sorry about that! I'd have told you but I was, you know, busy."

The Joker looked down at him.

"I didn't tell them to leave. If your friends try to come in here, they'll be massacred."

Gordon nodded. "And they know that. My orders were to stay outside and they'll follow them. But as for that helicopter; Stephens did as you asked. He got you the helicopter and you got yourself and me on TV. But it's police procedure to keep reporters away from a scene like this at all costs. They had all the time they were allowed. You didn't say how long you wanted the helicopter there for though, did you? You really need to be precise about these things..."

Seething, the Joker grabbed Gordon by his bloodstained and ripped shirt and pulled him up.

"You think you're so clever, don't you? You and your plans and your orders and your _procedures_! You think this City is yours? It's not. All it takes is someone to come along and slightly tip the balance, to make people understand they don't have to follow your rules! You hold them back!

"_I want to protect this city from scum like you!_"

The Joker smirked. "Right. But the Batman; he's accepted by you. Despite being no different to me, you tolerate him because he follows your _rules_."

Jim chuckled, spitting out blood. "He's not here now is he?"

The Joker's demenour changed. For the first time, he didn't appear so confident.

"He'll come," he snapped.

Gordon shook his head, trying as hard as he could to ignore the pain. He was in complete agony, fighting to remain conscious but he couldn't let this go. He was finally getting to the Joker. He couldn't lose this tiny advantage. Even if it took his last breath.

"No." He whispered, firmly

"Why not?"

"I told you! I betrayed him!"

The Joker was nearly beside himself. He was bouncing on the spot, in complete denial. He flat out refused to believe Gordon's words.

"He'll come," he repeated, trying to convince himself more than Gordon; "He'll come soon."

"What makes you think Batman would try to save one man but not thirty children? He's not twisted like you."

"You're the _only_ manBatman believes can help him change his beloved Gotham; the only man with some power who is still on his side. _He trusts you_. He wouldn't stand by and let you die."

Gordon actually snorted. "I'm not as important as you think. Look what happened to Dent. Batman couldn't save him. Harvey was the one man who could save this city; if he'd had time."

He glared at the Joker. He knew he was looking at the man responsible for Harvey and Rachel's deaths. This freak almost even caused the murder of Gordon's own son. There were few occasions in his life that Gordon had felt such true hatred for another human being.

He continued. "And you knew that, didn't you? You bastard. That's why you destroyed him, in every possible way you could. And that's why you're nothing but scum, Joker." Then, Gordon did something that before that night, he wouldn't have believed himself capable of. He spat out more blood, this time directly into the hated man's face.

The Joker didn't react immediately. Very carefully, he wiped at his face, clearing away the blood along with some of his own white face paint. When he finally gazed back down at Gordon, there was surprise and even some respect in that look.

The Joker released his hold on Jim's shirt, allowing the man to crumble to the ground once more.

Jim could actually have laughed, despite the pain. The freak respected him! And all it took was bringing himself down to the Joker's own level. Is that what it would take to beat scum such as him? Well, whether that was true or not, it was further into the darkness then Jim was willing to go. What good was winning if the success caused you to lose yourself? Jim would stay true to his beliefs, whatever they cost him.

With no warning, the Joker relaunched his frenzied attack on Gordon, kicking the man repeatedly. When Jim shouted at him to stop, The Joker paused. With a snarl, he knelt down beside Gordon and placed his face so close to Jim's that the two men were nose to nose.

"Do you want to know how I broke Dent, Commissioner?"

"You murdered the woman he loved, scarred him for life and then played with his badly damaged mind until you drove him insane. You made him believe it was all my fault so enticing him to come after my family. I already know what you did."

"Ah but I did a lot more than that, Gordon. _I made him see. _I showed him what the world was really like, who was actually to blame for all the chaos that exists. And as you say, he came to the correct conclusion. It _was_ your fault."

Jim shook his head. The Joker laughed softly.

"You, the Mayor and the others in this city take pleasure in telling the citizens how they should be living their lives. I wanted to show people that there are other choices they can make. Chaos. Anarchy. Panic. I just want those people to have some _fun_!"

"Fun?" Gordon repeated with disbelief. He'd heard enough. "You think death and destruction is fun?" He chuckled. "You're a murderer and a thief and a sadist, that's all. A sad little man trying to go out with a bang and happy to take some inncoent people with him. Even if their children."

The Joker prodded at Gordon chest with his finger, causing the man to moan. "All I wanted was Batman. No one had to die today. I gave them a choice. That's what I do. I lay it out and watch what happens. Batman chose for those kiddies to die, not me." He pointed. "And those people out there, they know that."

Gordon sighed. His whole body was crying out. He knew he was in urgent need of medical attention and if he didn't get it soon, it would be too late for him. But there was no way the last words he heard would be this mad man's sick ramblings.

"One thing you should know before you drone on anymore, Joker. I'm not Harvey Dent. You're not going to convince me to turn on everyone I care about it, too lose all of my beliefs and become a twisted, hateful version of myself. You knew Harvey was at his weakest and you manipulated him into being the person you needed him to be. You're an evil bastard, plain and simple. Don't give me this "agent of Chaos" bullshit. You do what you do because you enjoy it, like most psychopaths."

The Joker said nothing. He just stood, listening.

Gordon continued. He had a point to make to this animal.

"You won't break me. You won't change me. You wrecked Harvey Dent's life and then got into that poor broken man's head and ripped apart everything that was good about him You saw your chance and you took it. You won't get to do the same to me." He rolled his hand into a fist. "You can't get inside of_ me!_"

The Joker gazed at Gordon. His lips twitched, as if something had amused him.

Once again, he leant in close.

"Is that right?" He asked.

Lunging forward, the Joker grabbed Jim and forced him to his feet. He swung him round, hurling him him against the wall before them, face first. Gordon cried out in agony and outrage. The pain was so all consuming, he knew he would pass out any moment and he welcomed it.

Feeling increasingly groggy so unable to fight back, Jim could feel the Joker groping around in his pockets and he knew instantly what the other man was looking for. Pulling out Gordon's handcuffs, the Joker quickly slipped them around Jim's hands and locked them in place. Jim then found himself being pulled away from the wall, herded forward and then being shoved downwards. He could feel himself being bent over a large, metal object. It took him a few more seconds to realise that it was the broken bat signal.

Even then, Jim had no idea what the Joker was planning. It wasn't until he could feel the madman tugging on his trousers, ripping them, pulling them down to his ankles that it finally dawned on him exactly what he was facing.

_No._

Jim began to struggle with earnest but with his hands tied behind him and the Joker pushing him further down against the smashed light, it was useless. Jim felt the broken shards of glass cutting into his face and he moaned. This could not be happened. This nightmare had to end, it just had too.

He heard the sound of a zipper being pulled down and then came the shock of feeling something hard brushing up against him.

_Oh God. Please._

"You know, Commissioner, you're absolutely right." The Joker hissed in his ear. "You are stronger than Harvey was. I couldn't break your spirit the way I did his." He paused, sticking his tongue down Jim's ear, causing the terrified man to flinch violently. "But there's more than one way to get inside a man."

"Don't," Jim whimpered. "Don't do this." All pride had left him now. He couldn't bare it. He couldn't be defiled by this creature.

_Please God, stop this._

"Shh, now." the Joker whispered. "Think of Batman, if it helps."

And with that, the Joker entered Jim with one hard thrust, causing his terrified victim to scream in horror. The cries intensified as the Joker pulled all the way out and shoved back inside. He repeated this again and again, his teeth bared, enjoying the long awaited defeat of his foe. He looked down at the petrified Gordon as he fucked him relentlessly. To hear those wonderful screams turn into whimpers, to see the look of agony and humiliation on the man's face – this was heaven for the Joker and he was reveling in it.

The assault was brutal but mercifully short. The Joker came with a cry as he emptied himself into Gordon. When he was finished, he stepped away, allowing Jim to slump pitifully to the floor.

"Thank you, Commissioner." A beat. "So, what do you have to say _now_?"

Silent tears fell down Gordon's face. His throat was hoarse from all the screaming. All the words he had spoken only a mere five minutes before seemed hollow now, he knew that they meant absolutely nothing. The Joker had won again.

He lay there, writhing in helpless agony. He could feel blood running down his thighs and wondered what damage the freak had caused to him. He sent another prayer up to God, though his last had been ignored.

_Please, let me die. Let him kill me so I don't have to live with the shame of this._

He cowered as the Joker leant over him. He closed his eyes, not wanting to see him.

"Tell me Commissioner, how do you feel now? How are you ever going to look your sweet family in the eye again? Whenever you kiss your children goodnight, you'll see me in them. When you make love to your wife, I'll be there, right there with you. You're soiled goods now."

Jim whimpered. The Joker wouldn't let up.

"Look at you. Look at the state of you. Some police chief! You're disgusting; ruined forever and ever. I'm inside you now and you'll never wash me away. You'll never feel clean again, will you? You'll never forget this night. And do you know what?"

Jim tried to look away. The Joker tutted.

"No, look at me. Do you know? This is all Batman's fault. Why didn't he save you?"

Jim sobbed. He couldn't help himself.

"Kill me." He murmured.

The Joker placed his head on one side, confused by the request.

He cupped a hand behind his ear.

"Sorry? What was that?"

"Kill me. Please."

The Joker sighed. He held up his once again clean knife to show Gordon and then placed it against the man's lip.

"Why so serious, Commissioner?"

He slipped the knife inside Jim's mouth and held it there, waiting.

"You need a permanent smile, James Gordon. Like mine. Then you'll never be unhappy again."

He held Gordon's head in place. This time, there was no fight from the Commissioner.

"Lets see what we can do." The Joker hissed.

Suddenly, he was picked up and thrown clear of Gordon, crashing to the ground a few feet away. Dazed, the Joker groaned and rubbing his head, trying to clear his vision. As his focus returned, pure elation hit him. Batman was stood in front of Jim, shielding him from the Joker. And the clown could see from the Bat's eyes that he wasn't happy. At all.

"Okay, where exactly did you come from?" The Joker enquired, pleasantly.

"_You are never touching him again!" _Batman snarled_._

The Joker smiled. Now, the game begins.

TBC

Lots of Jim-comfort and Joker-whumpage by Batman in part 3!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N - Hi all :) Here's the next part! Thanks again to everyone who reviewed the last part - I'll do individual responses next time :) One more chapter to go after this; it will be set a few months after the events here and will be all to do with Gordon and Batman and their relationship. Jim will need a lot of time to heal and Batman will help him through that. I should have that up next week :)

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter and please, please review again. It really helps the plot bunnies to get your comments!

Ok, carrying on then:

**Trail of Blood **

**Chapter 3**

The Joker was almost delirious with happiness at seeing his Batman again. All interest in Gordon seemed to have disappeared as the Joker, smiling, took a step closer toward Batman with his arms outstretched. Batman stared at him in surprise. Could the crazed clown really be intending to _embrace_ him?

"I knew you'd come!" The Joker exclaimed. He gestured madly at the still crumpled form of Gordon. "I told him you'd come, but he didn't believe me." He wagged his finger excitedly. "That's one apology you owe me, Commissioner!" He laughed.

Batman glowered.

"He owes you an apology?" He growled, softly.

The Joker waved his hands, already disinterested. "That's not important now. It's good to see you again! I missed you!"

"Did you?" came the frosty reply.

The Joker sauntered closer. Batman raised a bat blade and the Joker paused, his expression questioning.

"Well, that's not very friendly is it?"

The Batman didn't answer him. Instead, he glanced down at Jim, still lying at his feet.

Gordon was trembling all over, and although he seemed to be gazing straight upwards, Bruce was sure he couldn't see him. Perhaps the man was going into shock. Bruce's brow furrowed when he saw the handcuffs and the terrible scale of his friend's injuries. He took in the blood and the bruises and groaned inwardly when he saw Gordon's ribs sticking out.

Ominously of all, Bruce's eyes were drawn to the Commissioner's bare thighs and the black bruises caused by the rough treatment that were clearly visible. Much to Bruce's horror, he could also see blood seeping down the man's thighs and working its way down to his ankles. Bruce was horrified, knowing immediately what this meant.

The only good cop left in Gotham had been brutally raped.

"Gordon?" Batman whispered. When the Commissioner didn't reply, he tried again, more urgently. "Jim, can you hear me?"

Still, Gordon didn't react.

Bruce gently reached out and pulled up the other man's trousers, trying to give Gordon some respect back. Jim cried out at his touch and shrank back, afraid. Bruce could only stare at Jim with sorrow; he wanted to hug him, to hold him so tightly and comfort him. Just what extent of horrors had this man been put through – all because of his contact with Batman?

Tearing his eyes away from the shocking sight, Batman swung round to the Joker, feeling nothing but hatred for the evil clown.

The Joker had waited patiently for Batman to finish wasting time with Gordon and when the Bat's gaze fell once more upon him, the Joker, his head on one side, slurred,

"What do you think of my latest art? Pretty, isn't it? Some of my best work!"

Batman was shaking with anger. "You're sick," he spat.

The Joker rolled his eyes. "Spare me!" He flicked his tongue in the way that so agitated Batman. It was taking every ounce of will power he had not to charge at the Joker and beat him to a bloody pulp. But Batman was not the same as the Joker, whatever the madman believed. He would not sink to the Joker's level, he was better than him... he was...

"Or," the Joker drawled, "Maybe it's simply because you're jealous."

"Jealous?" Batman repeated, disbelief in his tone.

"Well, yes," the Joker replied. "Jealous that I got there first. Why not try him for yourself?" Another smirk. "He's pretty good."

That was too much for Batman. With a shout of outrage, he leapt at the Joker, sending his enemy crashing to the ground. Once he had the freak pinned beneath him, unable to fight back, Batman proceeded to beat the Joker relentlessly with two closed fists, with as much force as he could muster. The Joker laughed and laughed, fueling Batman's anger and worsening the blows. Batman would stop that hated laugh, no matter what it took. He would shut this demented clown up once and for all -

The Knight heard a whimper from behind him. He ignored it, needing to finish the Joker off first before he could investigate the noise. He was like a force of nature. The Joker would never hurt anyone close to him ever again. It would end there and then. And the bastard was still laughing... Batman despised that laugh with all of his being...

It wasn't until Batman again heard that pained cry from behind him, desperate and pleading, that he recovered his senses and paused his brutal attack.

"Stop it, please."

Glancing over his shoulder, Batman saw the pitiful figure of Jim Gordon, now sitting slumped on the ground, his head lowered. The man had made a fair attempt to get to his feet, but he hadn't had the strength to succeed. Jim looked as if he were going to slip into unconsciousness at any moment. His glasses had fallen off of his nose and were lying beside him, smashed just like the bat signal. When he raised his head to attempt to look at Batman, he could only stare straight ahead, completely unfocused.

"Don't become like him." He gasped, his breathing labored. "Don't let him force you into breaking your only rule. If that happens, he wins again."

His words hit Bruce like a sledgehammer. He glared down at the cackling Joker. Carefully, he raised himself up and backed away from his enemy. Turning his back on the demented clown and with his cape flowing out behind him, Bruce hurried back over to Gordon and crouched down beside him.

"Hold on**,** Gordon. I'm going to get you out of here."

Jim could only manage a soft "No... never free now... just leave..." before he closed his eyes again, exhausted.

Bruce frowned. He was furious with himself. Gordon had surrendered and Bruce hadn't even noticed. Revenge on the Joker should have been secondary to getting help for Jim. He had already wasted enough time with the maniac. He reached down, ready to sweep the weakened police chief into his arms when suddenly the unstoppable force that was the Joker barged into them with all of his might, knocking him away from Gordon.

The two foes glared daggers at each other while Gordon lay weakly between them, whimpering softly. The pain was too much for him. He just wanted it all to end. If only they would let him sleep.

The Joker, his right eye almost closed and blood now smeared all over his face and hair, was once again clutching his trusty knife. He pointed it at Batman and placed his head on one side. His whole stance was threatening and Batman knew him well enough to be wary. As he had discovered previously to his cost, it was impossible to prepare for the Joker's next move. Usually, not even the Joker himself knew what that move would be.

"Where do you think you're going?" The Joker asked softly and slowly, only addressing Batman.

"He needs help."

A shrug. The Joker couldn't care less.

"I'm taking him away from here," Batman stated. It wasn't a request.

"You do that and more will die. I sound the alarm and my men will be outside of this building in a heartbeat. They'll open fire on Gordon's little toy soldiers before they even know what hit them and, like that," he clicked his fingers, "they'll all be wiped out." Another flick of the tongue. "Do _you _reallywant to be responsible for yet more deaths today?"

Another moan was emitted from Gordon. Batman glanced down at him, his concerns growing with every passing second.

"He'll die if I don't get him to hospital."

"Again, you expect me to care. Interesting."

"What good is his death to you?" Batman growled.

"Apart from being very amusing?" Joker retorted.

"You used him to get me here. I'm here. Job done. Let him go!"

Yet more maniacal laughter.

"Tell me what you want!" Batman shouted, exasperated.

"I want YOU!" The Joker screamed back. "Gordon was just something for me to play with, what I did to him, it was a way of passing the time until you showed up again. And just as expected, show up you did!"

"Congratulations," Bruce replied nastily. "And in that twisted mind of yours, what happens now?"

"You get back into the game. I run, you chase me. We fight on. You and me. Forever."

Batman shook his head grimly. "I don't want to play your game."

"Then he dies here. And that's all your choice, not mine. Just like this afternoon, when you chose to let those children explode with their school."

"Why?"

Batman gazed down again when he heard that weak voice, which was now nothing more than a croak.

"Why come for me but leave them to die?

Bruce closed his eyes tightly. He could still hear them. Their desperate cries for his help and his own shout of fear and helplessness when he knew he couldn't get to them. And then there was that horrible sound; the moment he had realized he had walked straight into another of the madman's deadly but pointless traps:

"_Ha, Ha, Ha._"

The only warning he had been given. And he knew exactly what it had meant.

Batman stared at the Joker. "You set that up. You knew I couldn't save those children. They were _innocent_!"

"Innocent?" The Joker smirked. "As far as I'm concerned, there's no such animal."

"Answer me!" Jim urged Batman, completely ignoring the Joker. "How could I have been more important?"

"You weren't!" Batman yelled at him. When Jim drew away from him, afraid, he regretted the words at once.

"I was there," Batman continued, quietly. "I couldn't save them."

Gordon opened his mouth to question him further but Batman turned away from him, looking toward the Joker. Gordon understood. He wouldn't get any more information from Batman at that moment.

Batman was glaring at the Joker.

"It was a trap." He snarled.

The Joker's smile grew wider.

Gordon swallowed hard, tears again threatening to spill. He turned his head away. Those children's lives, even his – they meant nothing to the Joker. They were all just part of the joke, a way to make the Batman play his sick game.

Jim's gaze met the Joker's, ignoring his own fear and agony.

"You sick freak." Jim said weakly. "He's worth ten of you."

The Joker, ignoring his own injuries, ran furiously at Gordon. Jim tried to move back, but it was useless. He was in complete agony, and his wrists were still locked in place behind his back. He could only watch as the crazed Joker lunged for him. Jim's breath caught in his throat when he saw Batman grabbing at the Joker, restraining him.

"Leave him alone!" It was taking all of Batman's strength to keep the Joker at bay.

"You're nothing but my own little private bitch, Commissioner!" The Joker spat, his eyes trained on Jim's. "I'll come for you again, do you hear me? _I'll have you again!_" He was incensed. "Use you as I want, whenever I want. You and your precious family!"

"No, don't you go near them!" Jim moaned.

The Joker licked his lips.

Jim gritted his teeth against the pain. He would protect his loved ones with his last breath, even if that was what it came to. "You stay the hell away from my family!"

The Joker laughed hysterically. "You can't even protect _yourself_ from me!" He ruthlessly taunted. "How are you gonna stop me from getting to them?"

"Stop!" Batman growled. "Enough!"

The Joker pulled free of the Bat's painful grip and stalked away, mumbling to himself. He shriveled back round, hatred radiating from him.

"This is not about _him_. It never was. I've told you what I want, Batsy. What's your answer?"

Batman was in a quandary. He didn't want to play the Joker's game. That way would only lead to more death and destruction. But the Joker wouldn't rest until Batman caved, and it would be Gordon and his family who would suffer in the meantime. What choice did he truly have? He would not be the cause of any more harm to Gordon.

"If I agree to 'play' with you again, though I won't see the chase as a game as you do, will you let Gordon go and leave him and those close to him alone?"

There was another low moan from the man lying behind him. "Please, you can't give in to him; he mustn't win again."

Batman ignored Gordon. What else could he do?

The Joker, now very excited, nodded dementedly. "Yes, yes, he can go."

"You'll keep away from him. His family."

There was a twinkle in the Joker's eye. "I've succeeded in what I set out to do where our dear Commissioner is concerned. He's not important to me now. He's finished." He waved his hand, emphasizing his words.

Bruce glanced at Gordon, his worries for his friend increasing. Jim had again turned his face away from the two other men, sobs wracking through his body. Bruce could see he was still bleeding from so many wounds and he had turned deathly pale. He was also barely breathing. If he didn't get him to a hospital immediately, it really would be too late.

As for Gordon himself, the Commissioner was in complete agony. He knew Batman wanted him to keep on fighting but his body was ready to admit defeat. All he wanted was some peace.

Knowing they could waste no more time, Bruce slowly approached the Joker.

"The key." Batman snapped, his hand held out.

The Joker was confused.

"Sorry?"

"For the handcuffs." Batman growled.

The Joker snorted.

"Ah, yes! Um, now where?" He began to pat his coat, pretending to hunt for the key and Jim's freedom. Batman pursed his lips. It took every ounce of self-control he had not to knock the bastard out. "Just a minute," the Joker was saying, enjoying himself, "I had it a minute ago!"

"NOW!" Batman yelled. The Joker laughed.

"Okay, Batsy! Keep your ears on!"

He threw Batman the key, who caught it and hurried back to Jim, who was now lying completely still. Deathly still.

Bruce desperately felt at the man's neck, trying to find a pulse. With relief, he found one. It was very faint – but still there.

"Hold on, Jim." Bruce murmured. "Nearly there."

He unlocked the cuffs and Jim fell limply forward, reaching for Batman. Bruce wrapped his arms around his friend and held him close. He glanced at Gordon's wrists and winced; they were bloody and sore from where the man had been trying to free himself. Bruce was concerned by how cold the other man was to touch. He had lost so much blood, not to mention very likely having been suffering from shock for some time. Bruce felt nothing but respect for Gordon and how he had fought on against the Joker for so long, despite his shocking injuries.

As he held the trembling man in his arms so tightly and rubbed at his wrists, trying to restart the circulation, Bruce wondered exactly how much damage the Joker had done and if Gordon would ever be able to fully recover – if he survived the day at all, of course. Whatever happened, Bruce swore that both he and Batman would be there to help Gordon whenever he needed it.

That was in time to come though. At that moment, Batman still had work to do.

Holding Gordon, Batman turned to glare at the Joker, who had been watching both Jim and Batman with great amusement.

"How's he doing?" The Joker asked, sneering.

Batman frowned.

"I'm getting him off of this roof, now."

Much to Batman's surprise, the Joker shrugged.

"If you want to," the clown stated. "But Batman, don't forget your promise to me." He jerked his head toward the prone Gordon. "For his sake."

Batman rose up, gently lifting Gordon along with him. He moved to the edge of the roof and looked down. So much noise, so many bright lights below him. And he knew all the men down there would see him as an enemy, and they would most likely jump to conclusions as soon as they saw him that he had aided the Joker. He was practically allowing his own capture by trying to save Gordon. And by giving himself up, he was leaving Gotham at the mercy of the Joker. He couldn't do that, but he couldn't let Jim die either. It was an impossible choice.

He would just have to think of something quickly, wouldn't he?

"Batman."

The Joker was walking up behind him, his palms outwards. Batman stared frostily at him.

"Stay back," he snarled.

The Joker stopped.

"You have to tell Gordon's little friends down there that I'm walking out of here and they're not allowed to..." he paused, again sticking his tongue out, "...shoot me."

"Not scared, are you?" Batman growled.

"No," the Joker replied truthfully. "But our game is only in its second round right now. The kids were round one; Gordon is round two. I don't want to miss all the fun." He gestured to the ground. "You'll have to tell them."

"And your men?"

The Joker seemed confused. "My men?"

Batman blinked. "Yes. Your goons downstairs. They won't be walking out with you?"

The Joker said nothing; he merely smiled.

Batman turned away from the hated man and stepped up onto the ridge.

"Until the next time, then?" The Joker said, almost pleasantly.

Batman outstretched his 'wings', ready to fly himself and Jim to safety.

"How will I find you?" He shot to the Joker. "I have to see to Gordon first, before I can follow."

"I wouldn't expect anything else. You'll find me. Just follow my trail of blood."

And then, the Joker began to laugh. And he didn't stop.

Batman had heard enough. With the demented man's hysteria ringing in his ears, he leapt off of the ledge and soared up into the sky. He could feel Jim gasping and moaning in his arms and he clutched the man to him ever more tightly, trying to comfort him as best as he could. As quickly as they had taken off, they began to float to the ground. Batman could hear the shouts of panic from the men below him, and it suddenly dawned on him that the men could fire first and ask questions later, easily killing their Commissioner who, unlike Batman, had no protective amour on.

Batman knew how jittery the men would be and he sympathized. He just hoped they would give him time to explain. Somehow he doubted it.

He thought he could hear one voice yelling over the rest. Was that voice shouting for them to wait?

He hoped he was right.

At last, his feet touched solid ground. He was impressed that not one shot had been fired. Batman would have to remember to thank that lone voice.

Batman, using his cape now as a protective shield around both him and Gordon, laid the smaller man carefully on the ground before him. The Bat then rose to his full height and stared around him. He gazed from one policeman to the next, seemingly not bothered that each one was pointing a gun straight at him.

Batman did not speak. He was careful to keep an eye on Gordon.

Stephens stepped forward warily.

"Move away from the Commissioner."

Batman frowned. "He needs help. Now."

"Step away or we will open fire." Came the cold reply.

Inwardly, Bruce sighed. Why was Jim Gordon the only cop in Gotham with any brains?

"If you want to shoot, shoot;" He growled. "But you can't touch me. You'll kill James Gordon instead."

Stephens glared.

"Did you do this to him? Were you helping the Joker?"

Batman was losing patience.

"I don't actually believe that." He gestured for the man to approach, "Look at him."

Stephens hesitated for a moment and then nervously, he edged closer. Batman stepped back, allowing Stephens to look upon Gordon and to see the extent of his injuries. Stephens saw the bruises on Jim's face and chest, saw how pale his chief was and the colour drained from Stephens's own face. He stared up into Batman's eyes and Batman could see the fury and the pain Stephens was trying to control. The most horrific details were still hidden and Batman knew could not be devulged here. For Gordon's sake, his men could not know.

Stephens hurriedly took off his own overcoat and placed it over his unmoving chief. Then he whirled around.

"You men, here now. Get the Commissioner into that hospital at once. Faster! Come on, move! We don't have a lot of time."

"Sir, what...?"

"I said, no time! You two, travel to the makeshift hospital with him. Stay with him. Don't leave him for one minute, do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir."

Batman stood to one side, watching as two of Gordon's department rushed him to the nearest ambulance. As they went past him, Batman was stunned to see Gordon open his eyes and gaze straight at Batman. Then he mouthed two words. Batman got the message loud and clear.

"Find him."

The Bat inclined his head in reply. Whatever it took, he would find the Joker for Gordon – and the clown would pay for every moment of agony he put Jim through. In the next few moments, Gordon was safely inside the rescue vehicle, the doors had been slammed, and the ambulance was rushing away. Bruce could only stand and watch – and pray that he hadn't been too late.

Stephens once more approached Bruce.

"I should say thank you. You saved his life."

"Never thank me," Batman muttered. "And he isn't out of danger yet."

Stephens shuffled on the spot uncomfortably.

"We were useless down here. Sometimes we could even hear screaming from all the way up there and still, we stayed put. We just left him to suffer."

He bowed his head, ashamed.

"You were following orders. You did the right thing."

Stephens shook his head. "You tell Barbara and the kids that if we lose him."

Before Bruce could reply Stephens' whole stance suddenly changed.

"That son of a bitch!" The Detective spat and raised his gun again, this time pointing it away from Batman and toward the station.

All the other officers reacted the same way. Shouts of anger and fear came from all directions, and the Batman turned to discover the source.

The Joker was striding towards them, his arms swinging by his side. He bowed to all the officers as he passed them, and not one of them fired his weapon. Batman assumed they were too stunned!

Finally, Stephens came to his senses.

"Freeze!" He shrieked. "Did you hear me, you little shit? Stay where you are."

The Joker paused. He ignored Stephens completely; his eyes were locked onto Batman's.

"He walks out of here untouched." Batman growled.

"What?" Stephens snapped in disbelief. "After what he's done today? We should shoot the asshole right where he's standing. We'd be doing the world a favor."

"We probably would." Batman agreed. "But not today. He goes free."

Bruce and the Joker regarded each other.

The Joker smirked.

"Send Gordon my love, won't you?" The Joker mocked.

Stephens drew in a deep breath and Bruce could sense many of the officers around him were desperate to open fire.

"Steady," Stephens hissed. It was as if some other power was forcing the word out of his mouth. But the men did as he ordered.

Just as Batman began to wonder what the Joker had done with his own team, a car roared into view, parking up right beside them. The Joker made straight for it, a skip once more in his step. He opened the car door and paused before getting inside. He gave the Batman one last salute and threw something toward him. Batman watched the object land a few feet from where he stood. He and Stephens both gazed down at the small item.

As fast as it had appeared, the car was gone.

Batman walked towards the dropped gift, knowing that all the cops were again staring at him in stunned horror. Had he really just let the Joker escape? They couldn't understand it. Neither did they like it. Batman couldn't blame them.

Stephens hurried up behind him. Batman gave him a warning look, which Stephens took notice of and stopped.

"You say you're not his ally? How could you just let him go?"

Batman frowned. The Joker had left behind one of his calling cards.

"Answer me!" Stephens yelled.

Batman grabbed Stephens and pulled him close.

"I made a deal! His freedom for Gordon's. I had no choice. I won't lose my honor fighting him! I can't."

He pushed Stephens away, glared at the man, and then turned the card over in his hand.

Seeing the words in front of him, he froze.

Recovering quickly, Batman began to shout; "MOVE IT! GET DOWN! GET..."

Those were the only words he was able to get out before the police department exploded in a huge ball of fire. The blast was deafening. Many of the cops fell to the ground, others ran for their lives, but they were all caught in the blast. Batman grabbed at Stephens and knocked him over, trying to protect him from the flames. A few other cops were lucky and had the same idea, diving for cover.

As the sound of the explosion died away and all that could be heard was the noise of the flames as Gordon's department burnt, Batman gazed around himself, coughing from the smoke.

Most of the cops and passersby had survived; he could see only a few fatalities.

It appeared they had all been very lucky – or the Joker had merely wanted to pass on a message.

Still clutching the calling card in his hand, Batman glanced down at it again. He shuddered again as he read the words.

"Was anyone in there?" Stephens asked, interrupting Bruce's thoughts. He was still crouched down beside Batman, covered in ash and his clothes were tinged and burnt.

"The Joker's own gang. He didn't need them anymore." Batman answered, grimly.

"Why would he...?"

Batman shrugged. "To keep me guessing. And it's the start of a trail."

Stephens frowned. "What trail?"

"One that will lead me to the Joker. And one way or another, this is going to end. No more."

Batman threw the card to Stephens and he caught it.

"Look after Gordon," Batman told him.

Before waiting for the man to reply, he was gone.

Stephens stared at the empty space for a moment, then glanced back toward his burning workplace. He shook his head, trying to clear his confused mind.

_Now what?_

He looked down at the Joker card in his hand and when he read the words, he shivered.

"_Welcome to Round Three."_

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

**OK, here's the next update. I said last time that this would be the last chapter; well, it's not anymore! As Im writing this story, I just keep getting new ideas and want to take it to new, bigger places. So, Im not sure how long its gonna be now! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and please, let me know!**

**Special thanks to my awesome beta gaudynight. I love ya hon!**

**And thanks to these fantastic reviews of chapter 3. You are all made of win!**

**Youni: Thanks you so much! I'm glad you like the fic and thanks for reviewing. Hope to hear from you again! :)**

**Lizella: Thank you! Im glad you like the characters and the way I write them - I was quite nervous, new fandom and all :) Hope you like this new chapter and review again! :)**

**DXRULES103: Don't feel quilty, I love the Joker! And he's so much fun to write. Thanks for reviewing since the 1st chapter, I really appreciate all your reviews :)**

**Housewoodblues: Wow! Thank you so much. Ive never had a review like that before! Hope to hear from you again! :)**

**happykid: I wanted to try something different so thought I'd go for Gordon/Joker, glad it seems to be working out. They are also my fave characters so.. you know! You don't sound sadistic at all, and yep, there will be some more Jim-suffering to come! But lots of comfort too, thankfully! Poor guy!**

**OK, hope you enjoy!**

Chapter 4

_The tower was burning. Flames, smoke, and the insufferable heat were forcing him back at all times. Debris and destruction blocked his path, no matter what direction he took. There were screams of terror hitting him from all areas, and although he swung from one direction to the next, there was no way through. He could hear them crying out for help, praying to their God for salvation. But he knew that their pleas were pointless. Because although help had come, there was no way for it to reach them._

_He could feel himself being overcome by the smoke. He knew he couldn't save them. If he stayed in the building for much longer, he would die with them._

_There was no choice; he'd have to admit defeat._

_That bastard had won—again._

_Turning on his heel and sobbing with both pain and anger, he made his escape, running back through what was once an impressive tower block, but now a gutted deathtrap. He ran as fast as he could, staring straight ahead, not wanting to see the death surrounding him. Or, what was left of those people unlucky enough to come to work that day. _

_His head hurt and his throat ached. He coughed painfully._

_He could see the night sky. He was almost out. Away from the stench and the hell._

_And that was when he saw him, standing there amidst all that horror that he himself had caused._

_How could you escape Hell when the Devil was stalking you?_

_The hated figure leant against a wall and crossed his arms. Then he began to laugh._

_Batman stopped dead. He wanted to kill him and make all those people's deaths in that place mean something. He wanted to grab the monster and wring the life out of him. He wanted an end to that horrible laughter. _

_And on cue, the Joker's laughter cut off abruptly._

_He stepped carefully into the building he had wrecked, his hands held above him. Batman could see his knife glinting in the fiery light. The Joker bowed his head but kept his eyes trained on Batman._

_The Bat's fists were clenched at his side._

"_Found you." He growled._

"_So you did," the Joker responded with a grin. "Tell me, what did you think of round four?"_

_With a yell, Batman charged forward and the Joker raced to meet him. Batman shouted his fury as the Joker shrieked with delight. Hands outstretched, Batman reached out for his foe and realized that in the midst of that stricken, flaming tower, he knew he would have to continue this bloody fight until one of them was dead. Maybe today would be the day._

_He grabbed for the Joker's throat. _

"Master Wayne?"

_Today WOULD be that day if he could help it... _

"Master Wayne!"

_The Joker cut at him with his knife, drawing blood. "Who's gonna protect Gordon when you're gone?"_

"Master Wayne, wake up!"

With a jolt, Bruce Wayne awoke. He blinked his eyes, trying to focus. He gazed up into the kind face of his butler Alfred. Realizing he had again been suffering from a nightmare, he covered his face with his hands.

"Master Wayne," Alfred repeated. "I've brought you your breakfast, sir."

Bruce sighed. Good old Alfred. Keeping everything as normal as possible. And as usual, he knew exactly what Bruce needed.

"Thank you, Alfred," the young billionaire whispered. And then, as if he needed to explain, "I had a tough night."

"I could tell, sir."

Bruce attempted a smile. He stretched. "What time is it?"

"Almost midday."

Bruce sat bolt upright. "What? Why didn't you wake me? I had a meeting with Lucius this morning."

Alfred held up his hands to restrain the younger man.

"I've spoken to Mr. Fox, sir, and he agreed it would be a good idea to let you rest. He's been watching the news, too. I've rescheduled your meeting for later this week."

Bruce sighed and lay back down. "Thanks, Alfred."

Alfred nodded. "This dream of yours—was it the tower again?"

He offered the breakfast tray to Bruce.

Bruce noticed it, sighed, and pulled himself up into a sitting position, this time carefully, and took the tray from Alfred, balancing it on his lap. "It's always the same nightmare." He replied. "The other night, with the Joker and those people in that building." He looked down. "Their screams, Alfred. They don't ever stop."

The older man placed a comforting hand on his master's shoulder. "You saved thirty people that day, Master Wayne. You couldn't reach a few and they sadly perished, which is a tragedy. But it's not your fault. You saved at least thirty. That's what you need to think about. That dozen or so that lost their lives, their deaths were at the hands of the Joker, not yours."

"And that's a dozen deaths too many, Alfred!" Bruce shot across him, knocking his friend's hand away. "No one should be dying. They're dying because of me!" He paused before adding, "Again!"

Alfred frowned. "As I said, they died because of _the Joker_."

"Whom I let escape! The night Gordon was attacked, I let him walk because I promised I would. Why did I think I could fight a man like him with honor? He doesn't know the meaning of the word."

"But you do," Alfred replied softly. "And that's what sets you part from him, sir."

Alfred really knew how to pick his words. Bruce was calmed by them and realized that they made sense. He had thought that allowing the Joker to walk THAT night, the Joker would have kept the battle between them. But it had been a vain hope.

As Alfred began to busy himself with tidying the room, Bruce's thoughts again turned to that night – and the horror that had stayed with him since.

For two weeks, there had been peace. Batman had hunted for a trail but had found nothing. The Joker had kept quiet and stayed out of the way. Batman knew he would be planning something and had never relaxed. He had kept an eye at all times on Gordon, recovering in the temporary hospital, but he, too, had been left alone. No threats, jokes, or announcements from the Joker at all.

Batman had been more unnerved then ever at the Joker's behavior. And the Gotham police force was getting tetchy at the waiting game. Forced to move into a temporary base and with their Commissioner in the hospital, they were itching for some payback. Batman had had contact with Stephens and eventually managed to convince him to stay calm and patient.

The day after that, it had happened.

It had started out a perfectly normal day, nothing extraordinary at all. Apart from it being Gordon's first day back at work, of course. Bruce had decided Batman would keep his distance from the Commissioner for some time, hoping that Gordon would find his own feet again and slip back into work as smoothly as possible.

He should have expected that the Joker would have had other ideas.

He was on his way into work when the announcement came over the radio. The Joker had stormed into an office building and was holding all the workers for ransom. He was demanding for both Batman and Gordon to meet him at the chosen location, and the pair of them were to be unarmed—and unmasked. Batman would not—_could_ not—agree to his demands, and there was no way he would allow Gordon anywhere near the Joker. In response to their refusals, the Joker had become incensed and had set the building on fire – just as Batman had arrived on the scene, hoping to save the innocent people involved.

He'd managed to get many of the hostages out, fighting past the Joker and his new band of cronies as he went along. He hadn't been able to reach the upper-most floors of the building, despite the damned knowing he was near them. Their desperate screams for his help would stay with him forever.

Batman, being beaten back by the flames and smoke, was forced to leave those people to die. He had rushed back through the blazing inferno that had once been a tall office block – and had found the Joker waiting for him, barring his way out. Something had snapped inside Batman. No more innocent people would lose their lives because neither Bruce Wayne nor Batman were capable of doing what was necessary. The Joker would die that day and Gotham would be free of him.

They had fought furiously, each man injuring the other. The Joker had knocked Batman to the ground, taunting him about Gordon and the City. Batman had pushed at the freak with all his might, sending him tumbling away. At that moment, more of the building had caved in, blocking his path to the Joker – but also blocking the Joker's escape.

He had made up his mind instantly. The Joker's screams followed him as he made his exit, leaping out of the building and into the night sky. He had left the Joker to die. He had taken the coward's way out.

He should have finished his enemy himself – and not left it to the flames.

"Did they find him?" Alfred suddenly asked, bringing Bruce out of his musings.

"Sorry?" Bruce asked him, looking up. His old friend was standing directly in front of him, leaning slightly toward him, arms crossed behind his back. Alfred was watching Bruce curiously.

"The Joker. Was his body found?"

Bruce shook his head in response. "There are no records of the Joker that exist anywhere, so there's no way to identify him. We'll have to wait and see if any remains are unaccounted for in the next few days. With a bit of luck, he's in there."

Alfred glanced at his master.

"You seem almost down at the prospect, Master Wayne."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, this man who has caused so much chaos and pain to so many people, including yourself, is probably dead. You don't seem that happy about it, if you don't mind my saying."

Bruce was thoughtful. "Of course it's good news, Alfred, if he's actually gone. Everyone can breathe easier. But I just left him there to die; I couldn't end it myself. I wanted to. I'd made up my mind to finish him. But then the decision was taken away from Batman, away from me."

Alfred shrugged. "And why is that such a problem?"

Bruce groaned. "I turned and ran, Alfred. I left him there to burn. It was Ra's al Ghul all over again. I wasn't willing to do what was necessary." He bowed his head.

"No matter the cause of his death, sir, Rachel and Harvey now have some justice. Thanks to you."

Bruce swallowed hard at those words.

"I still didn't kill him myself, Alfred. I'm still not even sure that I could have."

"And that, Master Wayne, is what sets you apart from the likes of the Joker and Ra's al Ghul. _That_ is what makes you _better_."

Bruce was moved. "You have to say that. You work for me."

Alfred smiled. "It's about a little bit more than that, sir." The older man walked toward the door. "Maybe you deserved a break. You and Commissioner Gordon both. This all occurred on his first day back as I understand it?"

"Yeah," Bruce confirmed. "I thought I might stop by the new station today. See how he's doing." He paused, before adding more softly, "Least I can do."

Alfred, shaking his head, placed his hand on the doorknob. "It's like I've always said, sir, you're too hard on yourself."

"Maybe," Bruce muttered.

"Be careful not to crowd Mr. Gordon, sir. He needs to get back to normality and for that to happen, it is going to take time. He's suffered a lot."

"You have no idea." Bruce whispered.

Alfred raised an eyebrow.

"Neither myself nor anyone else in Gotham ever needs to know what happened that night on the rooftop, Master Wayne. And Jim Gordon deserves for it to stay that way. Have a good day, sir. Better call Mr. Fox to let him know all is well. Call me if you need anything."

"Thank you, Alfred."

The butler gave him a polite bow, smiled warmly, and then hurried out of the door, leaving Bruce to his business and his thoughts. His musings turned to the conversation he was to have that evening with Gordon. He found he was nervous about the meeting. He had promised to help Gordon in his recovery, whatever it took to get Jim through.

Neither Bruce nor Batman would let him down.

Jim Gordon stood in the mayor's office, gazing down upon his boss. It had been a busy few days for the Commissioner. The busier he was, the less time he had to reflect.

The attack on the office block two days ago had put Gotham on red alert once again, and each and every officer was doing his duty. The small property that had been chosen as their new department building was alive with activity, and the patrolmen were again doing their rounds. The gutted, burned-down tower was already being thoroughly investigated, even as bodies were still being brought out.

Gordon himself had ordered his men in there. His decision was not popular.

The people had said the Gotham City Police Department's haste had been disrespectful to the dead and the mayor had apparently agreed with them. He had summoned Gordon to his office to hear his explanation and that was what Gordon had now been attempting to do for the past thirty minutes.

He had needn't bothered. The mayor's mind was already made up.

"Pull your men out, Jim, right now. And let those poor people bury their dead. They deserve that, don't they?"

"Of course, sir," Jim said with a sigh. "But what if the Joker is still alive? There may be clues in that building. If he is still out there, this is our best chance at locating him and prevent him from murdering anyone else!"

The mayor frowned.

"Jim, I appreciate your desire to punish this man..."

"It's not about that!" Jim shot back, his temper rising.

The mayor had that sympathetic sound to his tone of voice that Jim so despised. Gordon opened his mouth to argue his point further but the mayor held up a weary hand, stopping him.

"It was you yourself that told me you had received word that the Joker was presumed dead. _You_ told me that this was from a trusted source. Is that no longer the case?"

Jim struggled to control his anger.

"We can't take that chance, Mr. Mayor." He knew he was pushing this, but he had no choice. He had to make this man understand. "If the Joker was injured that day but somehow made it out, we could still have a chance of finding him. But we have to act now!"

He may as well have been speaking to a brick wall.

"The Joker is dead, Gordon. Let it go. Your men will be leave that tower block immediatly. The order has been sent. The investigation can wait until the city has finished grieving."

Jim was seething. He leaned over the mayor's desk. "You gave me this position for a reason. Now for crying out loud, let me get out there and do my goddamned job!"

The mayor paused, his face stern. "Perhaps you should go home, Jim. Get some rest. Stephens can run the department until you are fit enough to return."

"Are you serious?"

"It's unfortunate that this happened now, Gordon. I believe that your feelings toward the Joker has clouded your judgment where he is concerned – and that is completely understandable, seeing what you went through." Jim clenched his fists. The mayor didn't notice. "Have some more time off and look after yourself. Once this has all been cleared up, we can all get back to normal."

Jim stared at the mayor, openmouthed. Go back home? What the hell? He _needed_ to work! That was normal for him!

"I don't remember you doubting my judgment when I took a bullet for you," Gordon told him coldly.

The mayor pursed his lips and glared back. "Go home, Commissioner, or be escorted there. Whichever you prefer."

Jim stared at the other man for a few moments, still wondering if this was some kind of sick joke at his expense. The mayor's face remained expressionless and Jim had to accept that this was for real. His cheeks reddening, he turned and stormed toward the door. With one last glance at the other man, Jim took his leave and slammed the door hard behind him.

He bristled down the corridor, marching toward the exit. This was still unbelievable for him. Having spent weeks in that tiny, miserable room they called a "makeshift hospital," he finally got to leave, only to then kick his heels at home for two more long weeks with Barbara fussing around him. It was such a relief to return to work this week, finally able to get his life back on track. And then, only three days into the job, they turned him away again?

How could they do this to him?

Just as Jim reached the main entrance to the building, growing more incensed with every step, he heard his name being called from behind him. He turned expectantly, believing that the mayor had finally come to his senses and was chasing after him to apologize.

He was annoyed to see Stephens rushing up toward him.

"Commissioner, wait."

"What do you want, Detective?"

Hearing the anger in his tone, Stephens' smile faded.

"Sorry, sir, the mayor wanted... eh... he told me to... escort you home..."

Gordon stared at Stephens in disbelief.

"The mayor told you to walk me to my car? And to hold my hand, too, no doubt!"

Stephens didn't know how to respond. He swallowed nervously.

After a brief pause, Gordon whispered, "You all think I need help, don't you? Well, I'm fine. You hear me? And you can report that back to the mayor."

Gordon turned his back on Stephens and walked through the doorway. Stephens was stunned; he didn't know how to react to the Commissioner.

"Sir, please!" He called, panicked.

Gordon paused. He glanced back.

"I want to hear of any developments, Stephens. You tell me as soon as they happen. This is still my department, until I hear otherwise. People need to remember that."

With that, Gordon stormed away. Stephens followed his chief out through the door and watched the Commissioner hurrying away, toward the underground car park.

"The mayor is worried about you, sir." Stephens called to Gordon. "We all are!"

He was ignored. All he could do was gaze after Jim Gordon's retreating back. And his fears for the Commissioner grew with every passing second.

Gordon hurried along the street, still fuming. He swore under his breath as he walked.

Did all of them think him incapable? The mayor, Stephens, the rest of the department? Exactly how much did they know about that night?

Jim was only aware of Batman and the Joker knowing the truth. He had been surprised that the Joker hadn't told Gotham of "their fun time together." Surely the clown would have known how devastated by that Jim would have been if anyone had found out, least of all, the whole city? And now, his rapist was presumed dead. Gordon trusted that Batman would never mention the assault again, and he had faith in the Dark Knight. So, maybe Gordon was free of the fear of Gotham learning that the Joker had raped him. That was one less thing for him to be afraid of.

Because since_ that _day, he was always afraid.

As Jim rushed toward the car park, he couldn't help but react to everyone he passed. What if one of them was connected to the Joker? What if the Joker himself was still out there somewhere, just waiting for any other chance to get at him? Gordon told himself he was being ridiculous, that he was perfectly safe, but there was no getting away from those feelings of unease. Or, that freezing coldness in his belly that grew inside of him whenever he was left on his own. If someone walked up behind him, he froze instantly. He had already yelled at two of his recruits for doing exactly that. Apologizing afterwards didn't help. The damage was done the moment he showed his fear.

The agony he had woken up to every single day in that hospital, thankfully, that had passed eventually. He was still taking strong painkillers to make it through the day but at least it didn't hurt to walk, or even run, anymore. He was a fit man, a perk that came from being part of the force. His body had recovered well from its injuries. However, even though the physical scars were healing, the same could not be said for the damage caused to his soul. He had to endure test after test for every sexually-transmitted disease going. It had been a nightmare for his whole family. The counseling sessions afterwards had proved useless. How exactly does a man cope after being used and assaulted by a psychotic freak that had lived to cause pain? Gordon was in pieces. How do you even start mending your soul?

He had been left a broken man by the attack, exactly what the Joker had been aiming for.

He had lost the mental battle that night as well as the physical one.

At last, he saw his car parked where he had left it and relief flooded through him. He all but ran to his vehicle, already scrambling in his pocket for his keys. He was painfully aware that he completely alone. The car park was dimly lit and damp; it would be an easy place for someone to hide.

He gave himself a shake. "_Snap out of it, Jim_!" He mumbled to himself.

He found his keys and with trembling hands, attempted unsuccessfully to place them in the lock.

That's when he heard the noise. A noise that made his blood run cold. It was the sound of quiet, mocking laughter.

He swung round quickly. There was no one behind him.

"Anyone there?" He called out, trying to hide his fear.

There was no reply.

He turned quickly and with a small sob, again tried to unlock his car.

The soft laughter came again, taunting him.

Jim's car keys slipped out of his sweaty grasp and fell to the floor. Cursing, he dropped to his knees to retrieve them.

He snatched them up and stood up again. Batman stood right beside him, watching him.

Jim jumped, startled, and let out a strangled cry. In a panic, he struck out at the Bat, trying to force his supposed attacker away. Batman grabbed Gordon's wrist and held onto him, waiting for the other man's terror to subside.

"Gordon, it's me." He muttered, trying to calm the struggling man.

Gordon's eyes widened as he stared at Batman, seeing him clearly for the first time. The Commissioner wrenched his arm free from the Batman and glared at him.

"What did you think you were doing, sneaking up on me like that?"

"I'm sorry. I thought you heard me."

Jim snorted. "Oh, I heard you, all right! What was the joke by the way?"

Batman blinked. "Joke?"

Jim frowned. "Something obviously tickled you! What was so funny?"

Batman was confused. Jim saw his quizzical expression and his heart sank. Maybe he had imagined that laughter. Yes, that must have been it. He was under pressure after all. It couldn't have been the Joker anyway, could it? He was dead.

Before Batman could question him further, Jim said, "Did you want me for something? Has anything happened?"

"Nothing," Batman said gruffly. "I wanted to check on you."

Jim smirked. "Oh you, too? People really think I've lost it, don't they? Even you, as it turns out."

"No," Batman replied. "I just wanted to see how you were."

"Well, you've seen me." Gordon shot back. "Now, if you would excuse me, I have to go. I've been sent home."

"Sent home?" Batman repeated.

Gordon had very little patience left. "Yes, that's right. Sent home in disgrace because I can't cope, apparently. Anything else you want to know?"

Batman frowned. "Gordon, enough. I just want to help you."

Gordon stopped dead. He stared at the Batman, his eyes blazing.

"You want to help me? Well, maybe you're a little late for that."

Batman froze.

"Gordon, I…"

"No! Where were you when I needed you? When that bastard held me down against _your_ signal and defiled me. What took you so long? _Where were you_?" Gordon turned away, overcome with emotion.

Batman was stunned. Before he had a chance to reply, he heard voices from behind him. Others had returned for their cars. It was time to leave.

When Gordon looked back round, the Batman was gone. Jim looked from left to right, but as expected, there was no sign.

"Figures," Jim whispered to himself.

Taking up no more time, he again turned to face his car. He kicked himself when it dawned on him he could simply hit the button to unlock the vehicle. All that scrapping around hadn't even been necessary. What was wrong with him? The car beeped as he touched the button and he shook his head, mumbling to himself. Opening his car door, he got inside and sat there, staring into space. He covered his face with his hands.

How long would he feel like this? To panicked to even remember how to open his own car?

Batman cared about him. He should be proud of that. The man had saved Jim's life. Jim would not forget that. But Batman reminded him of the worse day of his life, and he wasn't sure that that would ever change.

He turned the key in the ignition and the car's engine growled into life. He watched as the man and the woman who had interrupted his conversation with Batman walked out of sight. He even felt fearful of these two complete strangers. Every single person in Gotham could now be a potential threat.

With a heavy sigh, Jim sped away.

He didn't notice the figure stepping out of the shadows.

The man in the purple coat.

The man the whole of Gotham believed to be dead.

The Joker, after ensuring he was completely alone, smirked and licked his knife.

"I'll see you soon, Commissioner."

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello all! I'm back :) **

**I'm so sorry that it's taken me so long to update. I will be completely honest and tell you that I had a crisis of confience and wasn't sure I could pull this fic off. I'm still a bit nervous now as to what you will make of this chapter. I hope you like it and please review if you do, I really need your comments at the moment :) I don't know this fandom as well as I do normally when writing my other fics so I'm always unsure. I've only seen the Nolan and Burton movies, I haven't read the comics. I do appreciate all the reviews and encouragement I've had so far, you guys say really nice things and I am gaining in confidence more when I read them. I then got one nasty review elsewhere and that threw me and I was questioning myself. But I decided to keep going! **

**Anyway, enough of my twaddle. Thanks to everyone who left reviews for the last chapter, please do so again. A million thank yous to my amazing beta who helped me out so much with this chapter, for always being encouraging and helpful. I hope you like the changes I've made to the update, at your recommendation. I love you honey! X**

**Ok, deep breath carrying on then...**

**Trail of Blood – Chapter 5.**

It was dark by the time Gordon pulled his car up into his driveway and switched off his engine. He stared at his front porch, already picturing his wife Barbara and her face as he walked through the door. The usual mixture of concern, annoyance, and worst of all, resignation. He knew what she would feel. That it wasn't over, that everything would not be okay, despite what he had told her.

He let out a loud sigh. He had really ruined it this time. They had all worked so hard towards this week. He, Barbara, and the kids. And what had he done? Over-reacted, flown off the handle, insulted the mayor and gotten himself another unwanted break from his job. The job that he loved and was damned good at. What good was he sitting at home? When the scum on the streets could and _would_ have their fun, knowing that he was out of their hair?

At least Batman was still out there.

He thought back to his meeting with the caped crusader, earlier that day. He had been unpleasant, even cruel to a man he had begun to consider a friend. He knew, had known all along, that Batman had been looking out for him, had wanted him safe. Why did he have to be so ungrateful? He cringed when he remembered how scared he had been, how sweaty and nervous of every person he had passed ever since _that_ night. The night he tried so hard not to think about but was always somehow right at the front of his mind. He could see that hated, painted face sneering at him at all times, especially when he closed his eyes. The Joker was always there, just as he said he would be, taunting him, laughing at him.

_God, that laugh_. How Gordon hated it. When would it stop haunting him? Especially if its owner was no longer on the planet.

Jim couldn't help but chuckle, despite himself. He covered his face with his hands.

There was no way the Joker was gone. Not that easily. The Bastard wouldn't give up without a fight. A fight that would probably take half of Gotham with him.

And even if he were dead, which Gordon wished with all his being could be the case, what difference did it make? Jim was broken, wrecked. A shadow of his former self.

The Joker had won. And Gordon was finished.

A tear trickled down Gordon's bowed face and he wiped at it with his finger.

He gave himself a small shake. He was better than this, dammit! Was he going to spend the rest of his life as that freak's pathetic victim? Dead or alive, the Joker wasn't near him at that moment. He was free, and still surprisingly almost sane. Many of the Jokers targets had not been so lucky.

He would go on, for his predecessor, for Rachel and for Harvey. James Gordon would keep going. He would fight back and get his life on track. It was time for him to stop hiding in his car. He had to face the music.

Taking a deep breath, Gordon swung open the door and dragged himself out of the car, slamming the door shut behind him. He dug his hands deep into his pockets and tried to control his breathing. He could still feel it; that sensation that there were eyes everywhere, always watching him. He looked about, listening for any small sound, jumping at the sound of a car horn.

Gordon wanted to slap himself. He needed to sort his head out. There was no one out there, not a soul watching him. All the danger was only in his mind. He had to ignore the fear he felt. He had to be strong. With a big sigh, he walked towards his front door, mindful to stare straight ahead at all times. That way, no movements in the corners of his eyes could frighten him. He would fight this. He _would _get through it, one way or another.

Just as Jim reached the door, he was surprised by it swinging open. His wife Barbara was waiting for him, her arms crossed. He immediately noted that look of concern on her face. It was a look that he had grown to hate.

"Jim, Detective Stephens called. He wanted to check in on you. He sounded very worried and he told me you left City Hall hours ago."

Gordon grunted in reply, pushing past Barbara and entering their home. "Can't leave me alone, can he?" he replied curtly as he took of his coat and hung it on a chair. He threw his keys onto the table. "I went for a drive, okay?"

Barbara frowned as she closed the door, her back to her husband. Even his tone worried her.

She turned to face him.

"Jim, what happened?"

Gordon didn't respond; he merely stared at his wife, his expression pained. Unable to hold her gaze, he looked down. Seeing his discomfort, Barbara visibly softened. She slowly approached Jim and put her hand gently on his arm.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" She asked him, more softly.

He shook her off. "Nothing's wrong, Barbara. Really. I just wanted some time alone. I'm exhausted. I need some rest."

"Jim." She began but he raised a hand, cutting her off.

"Please, just let it go." He beseeched her and then began to head towards the bedroom, clearly hoping for escape from the conversation.

Barbara was having none of it.

"Jim," she said firmly. "Tell me what happened at work today. Don't brush me off! I know something's up. Just tell me."

"I was sent home, all right?" Jim snapped at her, rounding on his wife. His eyes were flaming in anger.

Barbara froze, stunned by his sudden mood change.

"They didn't think I could hack it." Jim continued, now furious, "The Mayor sent me home. Is that what you wanted to hear?" His voice rose in volume. "The Mayor of Gotham thinks I'm a pathetic weakling unhealthily obsessed with the Joker. He thinks I can't do my job. And you know what? He's probably right!"

Barbara stood perfectly still, too surprised by his outburst to speak at first. After a moment, she once again reached out for her husband, wanting to comfort him.

"They don't think badly of you, Jim. The Mayor and the others, they just want you to be yourself again. So do I."

He once more brushed her off.

"Then they need to let me do my job. I have to find the Joker before he kills again!" He gestured with frustration at the television. "These people, they don't know what they're talking about!"

Barbara sighed. "The Joker's dead, Jim. The news reporters have been saying so all day. The Mayor and GCPD confirmed it."

"They're all wrong!" Gordon fired back. "Every one of them is underestimating him. You can't do that. You don't ever underestimate this monster. If you do, then he will make you pay."

Barbara shook her head in defeat. She stared at the flustered man before her. He may well look and sound like her husband but she knew that this wasn't her Jim Gordon; this wasn't the man she had married. And she wasn't sure how she could find him again.

"Jim, they say Batman himself told you he was dead. Even if you don't believe the rest of Gotham, how can you doubt _him_?"

Her words seemed to hit home. Jim looked up at her, his eyes watery and his voice breaking with emotion.

"_Because he was too late_."

He spoke so softly that she only just heard him. When his words registered, Barbara's eyes instantly filled with tears of sympathy for her husband. At last, he was starting to open up to her, sharing his thoughts and fears. She knew she was gazing at him in disbelief but she couldn't help it. She was horrified by what had happened to him and thrown off track by the resignation in his words. _Oh, Jim._

Jim coughed and rubbed roughly at his red eyes.

"Maybe you should join the kids at your parents, Barbara." He suddenly announced, not able to meet her eyes.

"What?" She demanded, incredulously. "I'm not running away, Jim! I'm staying right here with you. You need me."

"It's not safe for you," Gordon continued, as if he hadn't heard her. "I can't always be here."

Barbara forced herself to stay calm. "Jim, it's never been safe for us. This is Gotham. There's always danger, especially for the family of a policeman. I accepted that when I married you." She grabbed his hand. "We'll handle that danger together, just like we always have done."

Both of them were in tears now. Jim clung to her hand, brought it to his lips and kissed it.

"Not anymore," he whispered, his heart obviously breaking with every word he uttered. "It's too dangerous."

"Why?" Barbara gasped. "Because of what the Joker did to you?"

"Yes!"

"He's dead, Jim! He's gone!"

"I don't believe that!"

"Jesus Christ!" Barbara swore and turned away. She was shaking with anger. He wanted her to leave. He actuually wanted them to be parted? It wasn't going to happen. She wouldn't let him ruin them. He needed her more than ever at that moment. She would not abandon him.

She walked directly up to him, her face resolute. She would fight for this.

"You can't let go." She told him. "You say that you sent the kids away to keep them safe, but it's not as simple as that is it? You don't think you can protect them or me whilst we're here with you, because _you couldn't protect yourself_?"

Barbara knew she had gone too far even as the words tumbled out of her mouth. Jim was staring at her with an expression of shock and betrayal. Without a word, he turned and hurried towards the door. Crying his name, Barbara grabbed hold of him.

"Jim, please don't go. I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."

Jim watched her.

"Yes, you did," he replied quietly. "You think I'm less of a man now. I don't blame you. You're right, of course. I was _raped_ by the Joker, Barbara. He held me down and _raped_ me. That's what you're married to now. A man who allowed himself to be _raped_ by a psychopath."

Barbara couldn't help it. She had to hide her face away from him. She didn't want him to see her cry.

He nodded. "I'm not surprised you can't look at me. I must disgust you."

She had to try one more time. "Jim, please, I love you. I want to help you. But you have to move past what he did to you. We have to get past it. Can't you see? We'll never be free of him!"

He actually chuckled. The sound chilled Barbara.

"You don't get it, Barbara, do you?" He whispered. "You think I could ever be free of him? He's in me forever! Everywhere I go, he's there. I can hear him laughing at me, feel him touching me. He haunts me Barbara and I can't fight back. I can't stop thinking about what he did, how much it hurt, how scared and weak I felt when he... he… I can't cut him out. Oh, God, Barbara. I'm so scared!" Finally, he allowed himself to break and let the emotions out. Tears poured down his face as the enormousness of everything he had been through hit him. Barbara opened her arms and he fell into them, holding onto her for dear life.

Barbara held him tightly, rubbing his back and muttering soothing words as he sobbed on her shoulder. Moving his head slightly, he brought his lips to hers and they began to kiss. He grabbed at her, the kiss turning more passionate and Barbara reached down, touching her husband intimately, hearing his sighs of pleasure. She knew he needed this, has done for so long. She began to unbutton his shirt as he gently massaged her breasts.

"Missed you..." she murmured and he grunted in reply, devouring her with his kiss. He needed her touch, her comfort.

Wanting to see her, Jim opened his eyes. He gasped and recoiled in horror. Barbara's lovely face had disappeared only to be replaced by the smirking, leering face of the Joker. The Joker shushed him and embraced him, holding him steady. He kissed him. Gordon began to struggle. _No! Not again! Please! _The Joker was pushing him back until he was flat against a wall, pinned in place, once again at the mercy of a madman. This would not happen again. With every ounce of strength he could muster, Jim pulled free and drew his fist back, ready to pound that hated face opposite him. He heard a scream, someone calling his name... but that wasn't the Joker's voice? He blinked. Then he saw her. There was no Joker, just his terrified wife, cowering before him. Barbara was breathing hard, her hands up against her face to protect herself. Jim slowly lowered his fist. Guilt burned through him.

"I'm so sorry," he moaned. She didn't reply, just simply stared at him, horrorstruck.

He reached out to gently touch Barbara's face but she drew away from him.

Gordon's heart plummeted. What had he done?

Letting out a strangled sob, he slipped away from the wall, moving clear of her. Rushing to the table, he grabbed his jacket off the chair and threw it on. He reached into the pocket and took out his gun. Pausing to check that the weapon was fully loaded, Gordon then hurried towards the exit.

Barbara had finally regained her senses.

"Jim, it's night time. It's not safe out."

"I have to go for a walk." He muttered, unable to look at her. "Got to clear my head and I can't do that here. Pack your things. When I get back, I'm taking you to stay with your parents. You belong with the kids."

"I belong with you!" She pleaded with him.

He glanced at her then but didn't respond. "I'll be back soon. Don't open the door to anyone, Barbara."

"Jim, you're the police commissioner! You can't go out on those streets on your own after dark!"

"Why not?" He shot back at her. "He's dead, isn't he?"

Without another word, he opened the door and stepped out, ignoring Barbara's desperate cries.

"It's not just the Joker waiting on those streets, Jim. It's too dangerous. _Please!_"

If he heard her, he didn't show it. He just kept walking.

Barbara allowed herself to fall to the ground, her arms tucked around her waist for comfort. She cried out, alone and terrified. For several minutes she crouched there until she came to a decision. She couldn't let him wander about the streets of Gotham at night in his current state. When she thought about the scum he could meet, her stomach lurched. Her husband had had terrifying threats for so long, particularly since becoming Commissioner. If any of the vermin found him, she didn't want to imagine what they would do. She couldn't lose him.

Pulling on her own jacket and grabbing Jim's car keys, she swung open the door, ready to go after her husband.

She didn't make it out of the house. She screamed in shock when a black figure suddenly swooped down in front of her, baring her way. He quickly placed a hand over her mouth, silencing her cry. All she could do was stare up at him in surprise as she tried to calm herself.

When he released her, she grabbed at his hand.

"Help us," she whimpered.

Batman frowned.

"Where's Gordon?"

Gordon walked on, his head bent. He didn't know where he was going and he didn't care. He had heard Barbara's frightened cries, and he knew she spoke the truth. The streets of Gotham weren't safe for anyone at night, least of all, the police commissioner, all on his own and half the man he was. What scared him the most was that he didn't know if he even cared about being seen. His hand pressed against his gun. One thing he did know, if the scum wanted to try something, let them. He wasn't going down without a fight, not this time.

His thoughts typically turned again to the Joker. What could he do to get the madman out of his head?

The Jokers words from that night again came back to haunt him. Again and again, one sentence revolved around in his head.

"_There's more than one way to get inside a man, Commissioner._"

What had he been thinking? He had gloated that he could not, _would not_, fall and the Joker had set out to prove that he could. He had baited the Joker and had faced the consequences. The Joker had got inside of him in every way possible, just as he had promised. And now there was no escaping him.

Gordon approached a bench and sat himself down, still lost in his own memories. He glanced at his watch. Nearly eleven. He closed his eyes, the horrific images of his rape appeared before him at once. As they always did. He realized how tired he was. All he wanted to do was rest, to be free of everything that haunted him, just for a while. He wanted to sleep, though he knew it wasn't safe. He slumped down on the bench with a sigh and pulling his coat around his neck, fighting against the cold.

That's when he heard whispered voices around him. He froze and carefully opened his eyes.

Three men were stood over him.

"Hey, guys," a large man purred. "Look what we've found!"

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

**Yep, I'm back again! I know I've kept you all waiting yet again and I'm sorry. This chapter has been a disaster for me. I finished it 3 weeks ago, was really pleased with it and ready to send it to my beta and then my computer died on me and I lost everything! I actually cried and so nearly gave up! Your reviews kept me going so thank you! I had to start the chapter again from scratch so that took time. I hope you like it though - it was really hard for me to rewrite it. I hope you all think its up to the usual standard! **

**Thanks to my brilliant beta Gaudy-Night for doing another fantastic job. I'd be lost without her!**

**Also: thanks to all of my lovely reviewers. All of your comments mean so much to me, I promise to respond to each review next time but I'm in my lunch hour and need to get on.**

**Okay, on we go! Enjoy and please review again!**

**Chapter 6**

Gordon took a deep breath as he glanced at the three grinning faces gazing down upon him. He quickly noticed that the men were young and on most days, probably harmless. But considering his current state at that moment, everyone was a threat. He looked back down at the ground, being careful not to even acknowledge that the gang was there. He hoped that they would get the message and leave him in peace.

No such luck.

One stepped forward directly in front of him.

"This is weird, isn't it boys? Wouldn't expect to see the police commissioner on his own in this part of the city, would we?"

Gordon frowned but still didn't react. He hoped the young men would take the hint and leave him be. So far, he didn't sense too much danger from them, especially considering what he had been put through recently. No, they were just boys, out for some fun. He just prayed they would realize quickly that there was no fun to be had with him.

The apparent leader spoke up again.

"And at night, too. Not too smart of you, Commissioner."

The others chuckled, clearly enjoying this unexpected excitement. Gordon gritted his teeth.

"On your way," he snarled softly, still not raising his head to them. "Now."

There were hoots of laughter.

"Not very polite, are you, Commissioner?" the leader mocked. "We're just trying to be friendly, that's all. Never met anyone as important as you before!" He moved closer.

Gordon tensed, clenching his fists. No closer, he thought.

"Hey, where are my manners?" The man taunted. He was obviously enjoying himself. "I'm Jez, this here's my little brother and his friend. It's good to meet you." Jez held out his hand for Gordon to shake.

Finally, Gordon raised his head and looked up. Jez was smirking down at him, still with his hand outstretched.

"Son," Gordon said carefully, "I'll tell you this just one last time, for your own good, so make sure you listen to me. Leave me alone and continue on your way. You'll regret it otherwise."

Jez's face darkened. He glanced at his companions, who were both watching him. They were now unsure. Jim knew he had just made the situation a lot worse for himself. The boys were playing before; now he had inadvertently challenged the leader. If Jez left Gordon alone now, he would be tarnished in the eyes of his friends. Things were about to get nasty.

Jez cleared his throat, "You're not being very friendly, Mister Gordon."

"You were right the first time, Jez. It's Commissioner to you. And I'm not in the mood for friendly tonight. Why don't you leave now before this gets out of hand?"

Even as he spoke, Gordon knew he was wasting his breath. Jez was growing redder in the face with every word he uttered.

"You want us to leave, yeah? Well, go screw yourself, it's a free world!"

Gordon gazed at him. And before he could prevent himself, he began to laugh.

Jez understandably believed Gordon was laughing at _him. _He wasn't going to put up with that. This had become a battle of wills, and Jez was not going to give in easily. Especially when he still had his ace to play.

Speaking loudly over Gordon's laughter, Jez snapped. "Okay, so I'm funny, am I? Oh yeah, real funny! You know what else is funny, _Commissioner_ Gordon? You know what they're all saying about you out on the street?"

Jim stopped laughing abruptly, now eyeing Jez. He was worried, and the other man could sense the sudden change.

Jez nodded. "Yeah, that's right. Laugh it up, you bitch!"

The youngest member of the party, the man Jez had introduced as his brother, tugged at his arm.

"Jez, let's go. Please."

Jez ignored his brother. All of his attention was focused on Gordon.

"Wanna know what they say, James? Do you wanna hear about how they're all laughing at you? Or, do you wanna tell us what happened between you and the Joker?"

Gordon swallowed hard. He couldn't speak. So, the filth on the street knew. He should have expected it really. Even if the Joker was gone and therefore silenced, his men and supporters were still out there, clearly spreading the word on their boss' behalf.

"Don't," Gordon whispered. One small word of warning.

Jez didn't take the hint.

"Come on, Commissioner. Tell us the juicy details. Did you like it? Did the Joker make you gasp? Did he make you scream for more?"

Gordon burned with shame and closed his eyes. Jez threw back his head and laughed loudly. His two friends stood away from the pair, nervously giggling and looking over their shoulders. They were obviously not enjoying the encounter as much as Jez was. Jez would change that. He wanted to make his boys proud.

Jez leaned right in close to Jim, causing the other man to pull back slightly.

"Why so silent, sir? My boys and I wanna know what it felt like to have the Joker's dick up your hot ass. That's all we want to know," he mocked. "Come on, tell us!"

Gordon had heard enough. Is this what he had been reduced too? Sitting meekly and taking it as some street trash taunted him? Had he lost himself completely? He realized that he only resembled a simpering shadow of the man he once was.

Had he become nothing but a victim?

Gordon gritted his teeth.

No.

_Not tonight._

Gordon steeled himself and looked directly up into Jez's face. He then slowly got to his feet and was pleased to see Jez take a step back.

Jim cleared his throat.

"You think you can talk like that to _me_?" he said softly. "You think I give a damn about the crap that comes out of your mouth? You're a child. You have no idea what you're talking about. You have the nerve to stand in front of me and taunt me about what was done to me? You are so far below me, I can hardly see you. So why don't you do yourself a favor and get away from me and forget you ever saw me here. How's that, _son_?"

Jez was breathing hard, staring at Gordon. He was red-faced and stunned by Gordon's sudden outburst. He glanced at his friends who were watching the scene closely. Jez's brother again approached Jez and grasped his arm, trying unsuccessfully to pull him away.

"Come on, Jez, please. Do as he says."

With a hiss of anger, Jez jerked his arm away from his brother, balled his hand into a fist and punched Gordon hard in the face. Jim wheeled backwards, crashing painfully into the bench behind him. It was all Gordon could do to stay on his feet. He could do nothing to defend himself when the next blow fell on him. This time, he fell to the ground with a grunt, bashing his head against the bench.

With Gordon momentarily disorientated, Jez was able to drag the older man up, spin him round and shove him face first against a wall. Reaching into Gordon's coat, Jez discovered what he was looking for and pulled out the commissioner's gun.

He considered for a moment before tossing the weapon aside.

"You think you're so smart, don't you?" Jez spat. "Think you're so important. You with your big house and nice car. What exactly _are_ you? You're just the Joker's little bitch!"

Jim tried to struggle free, but he was still weak from the blows he had taken. And Jez was stronger than he looked. He was also incensed.

"You know what?" Jez spat, forcing Jim further forward into the wall. " Why should the Joker have all the fun? I wanna get me some of what he had." Jim paled and let out a small whimper. Jez hooted with laughter, taking great pleasure in his victory. He then yelled over to his cohorts.

"Hey, boys, wanna get in on this?"

The others hesitated for a moment and then, cackling gleefully and whooping with delight, they flew forward, each grabbing hold of one of Jim's wrists and pining him helplessly to the wall. Smiling cruelly, Jez reached for Gordon's belt and began to pull at it.

Realizing he couldn't move and feeling a hand tugging at his groin, blind panic hit Jim. He was beyond terrified. For him, this was history repeating itself. His body was trembling despite his best efforts to stay motionless, and he knew his tormenter would feel that fear and revel in it. In that moment, Gordon was back on that rooftop, being bent over the smashed light, shards of glass cutting into his face, drawing blood. He could sense the Joker behind him, laughing as he pumped his cock into him, breaking Gordon's body and spirit with every violent thrust.

With a shout of triumph, Jez wrenched Jim's belt loose. He nuzzled Jim's neck. The older man could feel the younger man's hot breath on his neck. He could smell the alcohol and sense the lust. With a sinking feeling, Gordon realized that Jez wanted to do this, spurred on by desire, his watching friends, and his own pride.

"Get ready, pig."

Those words hit Gordon like a ton of bricks. The sudden realization of what he was about to face brought him crashing to his senses. This was really going to happen to him again. Was he just going to stand there and take it, like some kind of human sex toy, or was he going to fight back?

He would no longer be a victim.

Forcing himself to stay completely still and therefore allowing the gang to believe he was beaten, Gordon was limb. Just as he felt a hand tugging at his pants, Jim suddenly threw his head back, striking Jez in the face. Blood spurted everywhere and Jez let out a howl of anguish, staggering away from Gordon and covering his nose in horror.

"He broke it!" Jez spluttered. "The bastard! He broke my nose!"

His two companions were gaping at him in surprise, unsure what move to make after seeing their

ring leader injured. They hadn't expected the tide to turn so quickly and now they were scared. In their uncertainty, they both released their hold on Gordon.

That was the opportunity he needed. Pulling free of his captors with a snarl, Gordon elbowed the nearest man in the face. The boy cried out and fell to his knees, stunned by the force of the blow. Gordon then viciously kicked him in the head, knocking him out cold. Jim then turned his attention to the youngest member of the gang, the boy he knew to be Jez's brother.

The terrified boy backed away from the raging police chief, mumbling apologies, tears streaming down his face. It did him no good though; Gordon was out of his mind with fury. He had been taunted and tormented enough by these punks. It was time to fight back. He grabbed at the kid and raised his fist, ready to strike.

"No."

The whimper came from behind him, and it was so soft, Gordon only just heard it. He paused, mid-punch, and turned to see Jez standing a little way away, blood still pouring from his nose. His eyes were watering and he now looked like the young man he was, lost and scared.

"Tommy's just a kid. Please, let him go."

Gordon watched Jez with disgust. Any normal day, the man's pleas for his brother's safety would have calmed and impressed Gordon enough to subside his anger but in that moment, he was too consumed by his own hate and shame to even notice Jez's change in attitude. How dare this scum think they could take a pop at him? Had he really sunk that low? He would show them. He would make them regret mocking him.

Shoving Tommy to the floor, Gordon ran at Jez, knocking the younger man flying. Jez fell to the ground with a painful thud and immediately curled himself up into a ball, protecting himself for the beating he knew was coming. Jim threw himself on top of Jez, pining the other man beneath him. Ignoring Jez's shouted apologies and desperate cries for mercy, Gordon began to pound the man's face with his fist. He was like a man possessed, raining down blow after blow on his defenseless foe. His face contorted in hatred, Jez disappeared from view, to be replaced by the laughing, sneering visage of the Joker. Gordon let out a howl of rage and continued to beat down on that hated face. Gordon would make it disappear, forever. He had only one thought in his mind – kill, kill, kill.

He didn't hear the sound behind him of a gun being cocked.

Tommy had recovered enough to pick himself up and see his brother being pummeled to death by the outraged commissioner. He had stumbled forward, intending to somehow pull the maddened man off of his brother when he had seen the policeman's forgotten gun lying on the ground. He had snatched it up and was now waving it unsteadily, trying to aim directly at Gordon's back.

"Get off of him! You'll kill him."

Gordon ignored the voice. He was too intent on finishing the Joker, whom he finally had at his mercy. By then, Jez's face was nothing but a bloodied mess. And still Gordon continued to beat him.

"Stop hurting my brother," yelled Tommy, stepping closer. "I'm warning you!"

Still Gordon didn't react. With a terrified sob, Tommy steadied his grip on the weapon and aimed it straight at Gordon's back. He sobbed as he put his finger on the trigger and prepared to fire. The gun was suddenly wrenched from his hand and he found himself lying on his back, holding his jaw. He gazed up in shock.

Batman glared down at him.

As soon as the young man was no longer a threat, Batman turned his attention to Gordon. It was clear to the Bat that his friend hadn't even noticed his presence. He ran at the commissioner and wrapped his arms around Gordon's midriff, dragging him away from the prone Jez. Jim struggled furiously, trying to fight his way back to his enemy, wanting to end it. Whoever had attacked him would be sorry...

"Gordon, stop."

That quiet, growling voice hit Gordon like a ton of bricks, and he froze, breathing hard. He ceased his efforts and Batman, seeing the man had had his senses returned to him, released his firm hold on Gordon. The commissioner pulled away, shaking his head in confusion. Why was Batman there? What had happened to Jez and his gang?

He looked questioningly to Batman and then to the young boy standing behind the Bat. The boy was eying Gordon fearfully. Jim was confused and opened his mouth to ask what had happened. He then realized that both the other men were staring past Gordon, their eyes locked on something on the ground. With a sense of growing foreboding, Gordon turned to see.

His breath caught in his throat and he gasped. Jez was lying on the muddy ground, covered in his own blood. He wasn't moving.

Gordon fell to his knees, his legs too unsteady to hold him. He closed his eyes and moaned in despair. He could remember now. He had beaten the poor lad to within an inch of his life, ignoring the young man's pleas. Yes, the man had threatened him, tormented him, but Gordon had wanted to kill him. A kid no older than eighteen. The guilt was too much for the commissioner to bear. What had he done?

Batman swept past Gordon and crouched beside Jez, checking him for signs of life.

Gordon felt sick as he asked, "Is he dead?"

"No, he's breathing," came the snarled reply.

Gordon could have wept with relief. Not that that changed what he had nearly been guilty of. And the Joker had driven him to this, forced him to almost lose his mind.

This would not happen again. Gordon had let the Joker mess with his mind for long enough. No more.

The third youngster had finally regained consciousness and had moved to stand beside Tommy. He had his arm around the younger boy, somewhat awkwardly. Gordon guessed that these boys weren't used to showing affection. He wondered if this night would change them, knocking them off the path they had been heading on, the path to trouble and crime. He hoped so.

Batman glared as he approached the lads. They shrunk back from him in fear.

"Don't prowl these streets at night unless you want to get stung," Batman told them simply. He gestured to Jez. "Your friend needs hospital or he will probably die. Go now."

The elder of the boys edged away from Tommy, steeled himself and replied, "That cop almost killed Jez. We'll have to tell someone."

Gordon sighed. Batman frowned.

"And attempted rape is not a crime?"

The boy shook his head incredulously. "It was just a laugh. It went too far. We were just messing about!"

"Boys shouldn't play games in a man's world," Batman snapped. "You didn't see your friend's attacker. Leave it at that, or things will get... complicated. He's alive. Be grateful for that. Now, do as I say and go."

Tommy pulled at his friend's arm. "Please, Cal, do as he says. We gotta get Jez help. Come on!"

Cal frowned, clearly not happy to let it go. Finally, he gave in. Nodding to the terrified Tommy, Cal rushed to Jez's side and pulled the unmoving young man up into his arms and with Tommy's assistance, began to drag him away. Neither lad could look at Gordon as they passed him. If they had done, all they would have seen on his face was regret and guilt. Jim was finding it hard to believe what he had done. Beating a defenseless boy almost to death?

Just how far gone was he?

Once the three youngsters were out of sight, Gordon began to walk away, too, his head bowed. Reaching down, he retrieved his gun from the ground and slipped it back inside his coat. He wanted to run. He didn't care where. He just wanted freedom. Gordon knew he didn't want to hear what Batman had to say. What would be the point? Nothing Batman had to say could possibly make the commissioner feel worse than he already did.

As he went to walk by Batman, the other man stepped into his path.

Batman eyed him silently. Gordon couldn't contain his frustration. He just wanted to go! Why couldn't Batman see that?

"Get out of my way."

"That advice goes to you too, Commissioner," Batman growled. "You shouldn't be out on the streets at night."

"I don't need you telling me what I should or shouldn't do. I've had enough of that today from Barbara." Gordon turned away from Batman, his hands on his hips. "Since that night, all I've had is people's advice on how I should live my life. Well, this is still my life. Maybe you should butt the hell out! All of you!"

"I saw Barbara before I found you."

Gordon stopped. He glanced at Batman. "What do you mean? She's at home."

"Yes, she is now."

Gordon rounded angrily on Batman. "What are you trying to say? Why can't you ever get to the goddamned _point_?"

Batman continued, his tone soft, keeping his patience.

"She was going to go out, on her own, at night, to look for you. She would have done if I hadn't been there to stop her."

Gordon was staring at Batman, his throat dry. Panic swept through him. It couldn't be true. Barbara would never leave the house at night. She knew it wasn't safe...

_So do you_, a voice deep inside whispered to him.

"You're lying," Jim muttered but he knew the Bat was telling him the truth. And at that moment, he hated himself.

"You have to face up to your responsibilities, Gordon. You are a husband and a father. You need to start remembering that."

Gordon recoiled, Batman's words knocking him back harder than any blow could.

"Leave me alone."

"You need to go back home now, Gordon."

Jim laughed coldly. "Oh, really? Because bad things could happen? What more could anyone do to me? Tell me that."

"There's always more to lose" came the quiet reply.

Jim shook his head. "Look, no offence okay? I just don't need your riddles tonight. What I do need to do is to clear my head, sort out some issues..."

"Is that what you were doing here before I intervened?" Batman queried. "Because, unbeknownst to you, you were about to be shot in the back by a trembling boy. Using _your_ gun."

Gordon scowled. "What do you want? My thanks that you saved me? Okay, then. Thank you." His tone was cutting and bitter. "Happy now?"

"No," Batman whispered. He seemed to hesitate before continuing. "I'm sorry, Gordon. I'm sorry I was too late."

"No one died here," Gordon snapped back, missing the point. "You saved the day."

Batman cleared his throat. "I don't mean tonight. I didn't save you from_ him_ and for that, I'm more sorry than you could imagine."

Gordon was stunned. The pure emotion in the Bat's voice shook him to his core. During his usual short conversations with the Batman, he was used to cold and blunt. But this was different. He could sense the huge regret that Batman was feeling. His unknown ally had never seemed so human.

Gordon swallowed hard. "Why didn't you come sooner?"

Batman was silent for some time. Gordon waited.

Finally, the Bat looked up.

"Those children in that building. They were the Joker's first round. Part of his game. I tried to save them, but I couldn't. I needed time… wanted to be alone. I didn't know what was happening. I didn't know he had you. By the time I did, it was too late." He looked down.

Gordon was unsure how to reply. He's always presumed that Batman had been too busy to help him and that thought had hurt more than Gordon could ever admit but that had not been the case. Batman hadn't _known._

"I thought you had something or someone more important to deal with…"

Batman looked up sharply. "There's no one more important than you, Gordon. You're the man that holds Gotham together."

Gordon shook his head firmly. "You're wrong. You're the Dark Knight, the savior people fear but still cry out for. I'm nothing. The Joker proved that." A tear rolled down Gordon's face and he looked away, ashamed.

Batman placed a hand on Gordon's shoulder. "He set out to bring you down because you matter, Gordon. To me and to this city. And you're still fighting him. All the Joker proved that night is that you are stronger than him."

Gordon snorted. "He raped me over your signal. He knew what he was doing, that sadistic son of a bitch. He ripped my body and soul apart and laughed as he did so. I'm weak, dirty, ruined. He won. I'm not strong."

"You're still here, Gordon. You've not given in to him. You're not weak. You need to realize that again and in time, you will. He overpowered you the only way he could because he knew you were the stronger man. He beat you, took you against your will. But every day you stay sane, every moment you carry on living, you're still fighting him and no matter what you may believe, you _are_ winning."

Jim was stunned. He hadn't expected such a speech. He gazed up at the night sky, thinking over Batman's words. Finally, he chuckled.

"You know what? That must be the most you have ever said to me. I feel honored."

"I'm the one who's honored, Jim."

Gordon's lips twitched. "Thank you."

Batman's tone hardened again.

"Gordon, go home. Straight home. The streets are more dangerous than ever. People are excited by the Joker's recent attacks." A beat. "His 'supporters' have been respecting his memory the only way they know how. They want to make him proud. If these fanatics were to find you, they would hurt you. You have to go, now. Find Barbara. She must be worried."

Jim hesitated for a second. "Do you really believe that he's dead?"

Batman also paused before answering softly, "No."

Gordon nodded. He smiled at Batman, hoping the Bat could read his gratitude. Batman inclined his head in return.

"Good night, Jim. And hurry."

Leaving the Batman to gaze after him, Jim turned on his heel and sped off. He saw Barbara's face in his mind, nervous and afraid. Alone in the dark. He broke into a run.

XXX

Barbara sat in Jim's favorite chair, her hands in her lap. She has taken to glancing to the clock every few seconds, praying that her husband would come bursting through that door at any moment. Batman had promised her he would find Jim, and she believed him. He had advised her to pack a bag, as she would be leaving soon. Then, he had warned her.

His warning was still clearly ringing in her head: _"Stay inside and open the door to no one but myself or Gordon. It isn't safe."_

A loud and abrupt knocking on the door brought her crashing back to the present. Her blood ran cold. The knocking grew louder and more urgent.

_Tap Tap Tap._

Could it be Jim? Or Batman? What if they needed her help? She carefully rose up from the chair and quietly tiptoed across the room but froze in terror when she heard a desperate, whispering voice from behind the door.

"Barbara! Open the door! It's Jim, he's hurt. Get out here, quick!"

Barbara, terrified, brought a shaky hand up to her mouth. It sounded like Batman. But what if it wasn't. She had no way of knowing. She was at a loss for what she should do. She let out a strangled sob.

The voice came again. "Please, Barbara, turn off the alarm and open the door! Jim will die right here on the doorstep if you don't. He's been shot. Hurry up!"

Coming to a decision, Barbara rushed to a table and pulled out a drawer, reaching for a small gun lying inside. The gun Jim always left in the house for emergencies.

Holding the gun aloft, she carefully disconnected the alarm and with a deep breath, opened the door a tiny fraction and peeped outside.

Suddenly, the door was thrown open, hitting her in the face hard. With a soft cry, she staggered backwards. The gun was wrestled out of her hand, and she screamed in horror, trying desperately to grab it back. Just as Batman had done so recently, a hand covered her mouth. This man though, unlike Batman, was cruel and forceful, tilting her head back painfully. She looked with horrified eyes into the face of her attacker.

"Well, hello there." The painted clown held a knife to her throat. "I've been watching you for a while. I'm a friend of your husband's."

Barbara moaned in fear as two large, burly men also entered her home and leered hungrily at her. They perched, waiting for orders. She closed her eyes helplessly, furious at her own stupidity.

The Joker grinned. "You don't mind if we come in, do you?" He slurred, then threw back his head and laughed.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

**Hi again all. I hope you all had a fantastic Christmas. I love the holidays, gives me time to write, so here's another update for you. :) Just to let you know, there is a serious sexual assault plus attmepted rape in this chapter. It's a nasty one! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED! Can't keep it a T rating anymore!**

**Thanks to my awesome reviewers:**

**Minerva's Cat: Thanks, as always for the comments. And I know, there's yet another cliffie! Sorry about that. Hope you review again!**

**Wolfbane17: Thanks, hope you like this update.**

**DXRULES: Yep, here's another update for you! Enjoy and please comment again!**

**Youni: Thanks for another amazing review. Hope the Joker doesn't disappoint you here. He's getting nasty again! :) He's great to write. Hope you comment again!**

**LaJoliecent: Wow, thank you so much. The fic just got darker again, hope you enjoy and please, let me know what you think :)**

**As always, thanks to my incredible friend Gaundy-Night for doing another fantastic job. Love ya!**

**  
Okay, on we go then! And, as normal, please read and review! Comments are love!**

**Trail of Blood**

**Chapter 7**

Gordon ran hard, panting as he sprinted along.

He was moving as fast as his aching legs could manage. The feeling of dread deep inside of him was growing with every passing second. Batman had been right, and it pained him to realize it. He wondered if the Batman was ever wrong. Jim Gordon was a married man, for Christ's sake! How could he just walk out on Barbara like that? What if Batman hadn't arrived? Would she really have wandered out onto Gotham's stinking streets alone and after dark if Batman hadn't had been there to stop her? Jim already knew the answer – of course she would. She was brave and headstrong. And that fact – and his own stupidity – probably would have cost her life. He owed Batman the world once again.

He could only hurry and pray to any god that was listening that everything would be okay when he got home. He and Barbara would then heed Batman's advice, join their kids, and then get the hell out of Gotham. Something he should have done weeks ago if only he'd sorted his head out sooner. His own sense of pride had been preventing him. It was time he put his family first once more.

At last, he arrived at his house. Breathing hard, he moved closer, eying his home warily. There wasn't any light coming from the building; it seemed to be completely deserted. And that was his worst nightmare. Swallowing hard, he approached the front door. That terrible feeling in his gut was swelling. Would Barbara have left the house anyway? Despite Batman's warnings? Or, what if she'd been forced out against her will? Jim gave himself a little shake. All his worrying wasn't helping at all. Batman had probably told Barbara to turn all the lights out, so as not to bring any unwanted attention to the place, especially as HE was still out there somewhere, just waiting for this kind of opportunity.

Jim cursed loudly and brought his hand up to his face. His eyes closed from the strain. This was all his own stupid fault. Exactly what had he been thinking, rushing out on Barbara like that, not even taking his cell phone? If anything had happened to her, he knew he would never forgive himself.

He heard a sound from inside and opened his eyes sharply. The surprise seemed to bring him back to reality. Self-pity was not what Barbara needed from him at that moment. He tried to block out his own fear and panic and, steeling himself, he pulled out his door key from his pocket and placed it in the lock. Holding up his gun by his face, nice and steady, he turned the key in the lock and pushed the door softly. It creaked as it opened. Jim's heart was pounding in his chest as he carefully crossed the threshold.

Why was the alarm turned off? Barbara was always so safe. She wouldn't deactivate the security unless... unless...

Unless he had asked her to.

"Barbara?" Jim called quietly. There was no reply.

Fear gnawed at him but he tried to ignore it. He stepped forward, listening intently. He thought he heard a murmuring in the darkness and he froze. "Sweetheart," he whispered, more urgently, "are you there?"

Still there was no answer. He felt along the wall trying to locate the light switch, but in his panic, he couldn't find it. Instead, he choked down a sob as he called out again, no longer even attempting to soften his voice; so desperate was he for a response.

"Barbara, please, love. Answer me."

He gasped audibly when the sound of a gentle chuckling reached his ears. His blood turned to ice as horrified realization struck him. It was the same hated laugh that had been haunting him for weeks.

Suddenly, bright light filled the room and he squinted, trying to readjust. Finally able to focus, he saw Barbara standing only a mere few feet away from him. His stomach lurched as his eyes fixed on the man behind her, covering her mouth with his hand and holding her tightly against him.

The Joker smirked at Gordon, his eyes shining with excitement. Jim could feel blind terror building inside of him, threatening to take him over, and it took all of his inner strength to hold it at bay. Here he was, face to face with the man who had terrorized his dreams for so many nights, his attacker, his rapist. Wrenching his gaze away from the Joker's, Jim saw two large, burly men standing on either side of the Joker and Barbara. Both had unpleasant grins plastered on their faces. Jim saw no mercy in either man's smile. They were clearly waiting for their boss's instructions. Barbara was struggling vainly in the Joker's grip, her eyes showing both fear and regret as she stared at her husband.

Jim blinked, trying to clear his head. He was still clutching his gun in his sweaty hand. As if this suddenly dawned on him, he brought the weapon back up and pointed it straight at the Joker's excited face.

"Good evening, Commissioner," the clown drawled. "Good to see you again!"

That hated voice ripped into Gordon, cutting him to the core. He trembled but didn't lower his gun.

The Joker's smile widened.

"Why don't you put that gun down now?"

He removed his hand from Barbara's mouth and she let out a long breath.

"Jim, I'm sorry!"

Three words were all Barbara managed before letting out a cry of pain as the Joker grabbed her hair and pulled her head back sharply, displaying her neck. Jim cringed as he watched the freak hold up a shiny knife for him to see and then placed it lovingly against his wife's throat, drawing blood.

The Joker then looked back questioningly at Gordon.

"Or, would you prefer to watch your lady here being sliced open?"

Gordon hesitated for only a moment. With a desolate look to Barbara, he lowered his gun.

Swallowing hard, Jim glared daggers at the Joker.

"Let her go."

The Joker tilted his head to one side, apparently confused.

"I don't think so," he said pleasantly and shoved Barbara to one of the heavies. The man grabbed her roughly and held her close to him, obviously enjoying her fear. Jim could see the cruel treatment and he wanted to launch himself at the man, but worry for Barbara's safety held him back. He knew he was to blame for their current predicament, and he would get her out of this in one piece – whatever it took.

Gordon frowned as he watched the Joker walking around the room, making random comments on their belongings. When he reached a display of china, his eyes went wide with wonder.

"Look at this! Nice, very nice."

Dishes went crashing to the floor one at a time, hitting the floor with a wallop and dissolving into a thousand parts. Jim could only stand there, useless and humiliated, as the hated man wrecked the room, upturning furniture, and destroying treasured memories and possessions as he went along. Jim stole a glance to Barbara. She gazed back with watery eyes. Jim gave her what he hoped was a smile of encouragement, but he truly felt the opposite. All he could do was appear strong for her sake.

When the Joker finally tired of his fun and sauntered over the Gordon, the police chief stood perfectly still, appearing calm and in control. He could only pray that his eyes didn't betray the true terror he was feeling.

"Very nice house, Commissioner," the Joker told him. "Your home is exactly as I expected, very neat and tidy."

The Joker didn't stop until he was nearly nose-to-nose with Gordon, enjoying the other man's obvious discomfort at the close proximity. Looking down, the Joker saw Jim's gun still lying at his feet, and he kicked it out of harm's way.

Holding up his favored knife once more, the Joker held it against Jim's cheek, causing the terrified man to flinch violently. The Joker guffawed with pleasure. He moved the knife down Jim's face and throat and then stroked the other man's hair. Leaning in, he nibbled Gordon's earlobe. Jim moaned in shame and anger. He closed his eyes and silently pleaded for the Joker to get bored and leave him be.

"I've missed you," the Joker slurred. "Open your eyes, Gordon. I like to look into them, at the fear there. It's lovely to see."

Jim couldn't help himself. He whimpered and could feel the tears slipping from his eyes. He may as well have been back on the rooftop; he was once again at the Joker's mercy. He couldn't fight him. He just wasn't strong enough. Batman had been wrong.

"Please," he whimpered and hated himself. "Stop."

The Joker chuckled again and licked up the side of Jim's face, leaving a trail of saliva. Jim could feel nausea building up inside of him. If the Joker didn't move away, Gordon was certain he would vomit. He felt weak and pathetic, and he despised the fact that Barbara could see him in such a state.

Right on cue, Barbara suddenly spoke up, "Leave him alone!"

The Joker paused and turned to Barbara. "Jealous?"

Barbara shook her head in disgust. The Joker laughed.

He looked again towards Gordon, who had taken the opportunity to calm himself and was trying to control his trembling body. He decided keeping the Joker talking was his only course of action. Maybe he could keep himself and Barbara alive long enough for help to come. Maybe.

"You said you'd finished with me," Gordon said softly.

The Joker seemed puzzled. "What's that, Commissioner?"

Gordon shivered. "That night..."

"When I fucked you like a whore, you mean?"

As the two punks hooted with laughter and Barbara cursed at the Joker, Jim's gaze dropped to the floor in shame. The Joker's eyes were twinkling. After a moment, Jim found the courage to continue.

"Yes, when you raped me," Jim began again calmly, "you told me afterwards that you were done with me. That you'd had your fun and moved on. What changed?"

"_You_ did, Jim." the Joker replied with a grin. "I meant what I said that night. I always mean what I say, Commissioner, unlike yourself. Sorry, I digress. _You_ changed. You came back fighting – unexpectedly, I admit. And you and Batman are still allies. I was certain I put a stop to that annoying little relationship, him letting me hurt you and all."

"He didn't let you do anything. He heard those children die and it tore him apart, as you know!"

The Joker ignored his words. "I know now that I need you out of the way, so I thought I'd make a return visit." He smirked. "Your family is the key, Jim. Harvey worked that out before I did!"

He threw back his head and laughed.

Any remaining color in Gordon's cheeks had drained away. He took a step toward the Joker, his fists clenched at his side.

"Leave my wife alone and deal with me. This is between us."

The Joker chuckled. "You're so funny, Commissioner!" He fished around in his pockets. "Hey, remember these?"

With a leer, he dangled handcuffs in front of Gordon's face. The exact same handcuffs he had used that night. Gordon didn't know how he could be so sure of that. He just was.

Jim backed away, his lips dry. The Joker followed him.

"Don't," Gordon moaned. "Please don't." Gordon was terrified. This was like repeating history for him, reliving the most terrifying night of his life. He felt faint from fear. He was shaking uncontrollably as the Joker cuffed his wrists behind him and then shoved him to the floor. Gordon landed with a grunt and the Joker crouched down over him, enjoying the police chief's agony.

"This is gonna be fun, Gordon. You'll love this!"

The Joker backed away to stand beside one of his oh-so-silent goons. Jim looked closely at the two men. He wondered what the point of having them here was. Did the Joker really need their back up? He soon got his answer.

"Go to it, boys!"

The man holding Barbara let out a triumphant shout and dragged her by the hair into the center of the room. Her eyes swimming with tears, she screamed her outrage, her eyes fixed on her husband's. Jim immediately threw himself at the Joker, shouting obscenities and orders.

The other goon held Gordon back, forcing him to the ground and trapped him beneath him. Gordon struggled furiously but it was useless. Restrained by the cuffs and the weight of the man on top of him, all Gordon could do was lie there helplessly as his wife called his name desperately.

The Joker clapped happily as the thug ripped open Barbara's shirt, causing her to howl in terror. The man touched her breast, his eyes hungry with lust. He rubbed at her hard, causing her to gasp in pain. He bit her nipples, and she cried out again.

"Shut your mouth, whore!" The man snarled as he hitched up the frightened woman's skirt and felt inside her underwear, pushing his finger inside of her. She screamed in horror. The man, panting heavily, yanked down his own trousers and positioned himself above Barbara, ready to thrust in.

Gordon could stand it no longer. He couldn't see clearly, but he could hear and he would not stand by and let this happen to his wife as it had happened to him. With a shout of helplessness, he stunned the man on top of him by suddenly wriggling free. Using every last ounce of strength, Jim dragged himself to his feet and threw his whole body against the Joker, who was taken aback by the sudden attack. Knowing he couldn't fight, Gordon used the only option left to him to prevent this atrocity from happening. He fell to his knees and pleaded.

"Please," he sobbed. "Don't do this. Take me instead. Do whatever you want to me, but leave my wife alone. I'll do anything. _Please_!"

The Joker regarded him for a moment before yelling, "Hold it!"

The goon, still straddling Barbara and preparing to launch his final assault on her, froze. The Joker gestured to him, and the thug pulled Barbara up and dragged her away towards the couch on the far side of the room. He shoved her down in it and held her. She was staring at Jim in total horror.

"Jim, no. Don't you do this. Don't you hurt him, you sick bastard! Jim!"

"Shut her up!"

Seconds later, Barbara was gagged. She continued to shake her head at her husband, tears streaming down her face. As far as she was concerned, being forced to watch her husband being assaulted, knowing what it would do to his already damaged mind and soul was far worse that what she would have endured.

Jim, meanwhile, couldn't look at her. He was terrified but managed to hold himself together, now standing up straight after being pulled to his feet by the Joker. With a hard shove, he found himself where Barbara had just been, in the middle of the room, lying on his back. The Joker stood over him triumphantly. He turned and pointed to Barbara.

"Make sure she watches this."

Stepping even closer, the Joker grinned toothily at Gordon. The Commissioner blanched as he saw the man he hated above all others standing over him, his cock hanging out of the open fly of his trousers.

"I think you know what to do," he told Jim.

Gordon turned his head to the side, breathing heavily through his nose. Not that. The Joker couldn't really expect him to do that, could he?

Leaning forward to once again run the knife down the side of Jim's face, the Joker smirked. "You said anything, Gordon. Don't go back on your word. I despise liars."

There was an expectant silence in the room. The only sound was Barbara Gordon's gentle sobbing, not quite believing what she was about to watch her husband do. Guilt and pity swam through her. Just how was she supposed to help him get past this?

Jim swallowed heavily, the heat rising in his cheeks. His tongue flickered out to wet his dry, swollen lips as his eyes trailed down the other man's body to his cock.

"Please," he begged. "_I can't_… _Not this, please_."

"You can and you will." The Joker was becoming impatient. "Or, should I ask your wife instead?"

"NO!"

"Then do it!"

Jim still didn't move. The clown sighed. He reached out and cupped the back of Jim's head, jerking his head forward. Jim grimaced as his lips touched the head of the Joker's cock, tongue flickering out hesitantly to taste it. Screwing his face up, he took the tip of it into his mouth, sucking gently. The Joker reacted to the contact, before taking control of the situation once more. He pushed hard into Jim's mouth, his cock brushing the back of his victim's throat.

Gordon gagged, tears streaming down his face against his will as he struggled to breathe. He tried to pull back, but the grip on his head was too strong for him to twist away from. He tried to relax as the other man brutally fucked his mouth. His insides knotted as the laughter, jeers, and cheers of the two other men rang in his ears.

Finally, the Joker let out a triumphant shout, tensed, and cum shot down Jim's throat, burning him. When the Joker at last released him, Jim collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath. He felt like he would vomit but tried desperately to stop himself, not knowing how the Joker would react to such an insult.

Jim blinked, trying to focus on the one person in the room who mattered. Barbara had turned white as a sheet, her eyes red and sore, and, judging by the bruise beginning to appear on her cheek, had been hit. Despite everything that had just been done to him, it was the sight of his wife, harmed because of him, that made fury burn inside of him. He looked up at the Joker, hate flowing through him in waves.

With a cold smile, the Joker knelt down beside the stricken man.

"Look at you," the Joker hissed in Jim's ear. "Look at the state of you. Pathetic."

Jim trembled, trying to stop the tears but they came automatically. He had no control. Not even of himself. Leaning ever closer, the Joker held up a key for Jim to see and then undid the cuffs, releasing him. Wary of the Joker's intention, Jim could only stare.

"What's the point of these?" the Joker asked, dropping the handcuffs to the ground. "You can't fight me, with or without the restraints. You're so weak and feeble, Gordon, a mouse of a man. And now your wife knows the truth. She's seen it. Seen that you are nothing but my bitch. You think she wants you now? Could even ever look at you again? There's no coming back this time, Jimmy. You're done. Even Batman can't save you now."

Jim couldn't help but sob. He whimpered and tried to turn his face away but the Joker held him to tightly.

"Beaten." The Joker snarled and to add insult to injury, kicked Jim twice hard in the guts.

At that moment, having seen enough, Barbara elbowed her large guard in the stomach, causing him to double over, and got up of the couch. She raced to her husband's side and threw herself down in front of him. She couldn't bear it anymore. She glared up at the Joker, her face resolute. The Joker shook his head in surprise.

"Don't you touch him again, you freak of nature! You're wrong! He's stronger than you! I watched him pick himself up from what you did to him that night and come back fighting. Sure, he was in pieces but he fought back! And tonight was rape again, pure and simple. And he allowed himself to be put through that for me. He's the bravest man in this whole damned, sick world, and I love him completely. Nothing you could ever do could ever change that!"

The Joker glowered at her. "Stupid woman! Don't you realize? I've won!"

"_No_."

Both the Joker and Barbara turned and looked at Gordon, now painfully dragging himself up from off the floor into a kneeling position. Jim was watching the Joker with complete distaste. As he had listened to Barbara speak up for him, he had come to one shocking realization. He wasn't afraid of the Joker anymore.

"You're wrong, Joker," he said calmly. "You haven't won. Barbara is right and so is Batman. I am stronger than you are. You can't get to me now. Sure, you can beat me, hurt me, rape me, and humiliate me as often as you want. You're a clever guy. You'll find ways but you won't ever be able to destroy me. You came for me because you fear me. You want me broken and defeated, and it won't happen. I've got my family, my sanity. I know who I am. Can you say the same? You haven't won anything, you sad little man. Actually, you've lost."

The Joker gazed at Jim, trying to find any weakness in his stance he could exploit. There was none. He knew Gordon spoke the truth; there was no fear of the Joker in him anymore. Any that was still there was well and truly buried. Gordon had control, and suddenly the Joker found that he was the one now afraid.

Unexpectedly springing into action, the Joker rushed over to Gordon's forgotten gun, picked it up and held it to Gordon's head. Gordon knelt there, perfectly still, gazing up at the Joker. With a cry of "NO," Barbara ran forward but was grabbed from behind. She struggled but it was to no avail. All she could do was watch as the Joker prepared to blow her husband's brains out.

The Joker smirked.

"What say you now?" he taunted Gordon.

Jim shrugged. "You still lose."

The Joker shook with anger, and Gordon closed his eyes, preparing himself for his final moment. Moments passed and still the Joker didn't fire. Gordon opened his eyes and met the gaze of his adversary. With a snort, the Joker moved away from Gordon to stand beside Barbara. He grabbed her by the arm and held Jim's gun against the side of her head, beaming over at Gordon.

"NO!" Jim yelled, jumping up. "Please, you animal! Kill me! I'm the one you want gone. I'm begging you. Please don't shoot my wife."

The Joker merely watched him, smiling satisfactorily. "Oh, yeah," he muttered. "Look how strong you are. _I win_." A beat passed, Gordon too scared to make a move. The Joker grinned. "Say goodbye," he mocked and tightened his finger on the trigger.

With a scream of hate and knowing he had only one chance, Jim ran at the Joker, flinging himself at the gruesome clown with all his might, knocking him over. Wrenching the gun from the Joker's grasp and sending him flying with one carefully aimed punch, Jim aimed the gun in the direction of the heavy holding Barbara. The man saw that the tide had turned and pushed Barbara away from him and began to make a sprint for the door.

_Bang! Bang! Bang!_

Three shots rang out, and the heavy that had attempted to rape Barbara Gordon fell to the floor, killed outright by a gunshot wound to his head. Jim spared the man one thought before spinning round, looking for his one true target. He sensed the other heavy reaching the door and pulling it open, but he wasn't too concerned. The man was simply a brute and would get his just desserts some other day. Jim wanted the Joker. He wanted to look into the clown's eyes as he died. He turned again to see the Joker diving behind the couch and without another thought, Jim began to fire. Barbara cringed at each shot that was fired and covered her face with her hands.

For some seconds, all was quiet.

Then by a miracle, the Joker shot out from behind his cover, laughing gleefully as he ran and made for the door and freedom.

_He's inhuman, _Jim thought as he made after him. Cursing loudly, he fired twice more but his aim was off after the torturous time he had been put through, and one shot missed the Joker completely. Jim fired again and this time hit his enemy squarely on the shoulder. The Joker almost fell, his face twisting in pain. His eyes met Gordon's for one moment and then, with one last cackle of glee, he charged out of the door and stumbled away into the night.

Jim made to run out after him, but Barbara got to him first, flinging herself at him and crying her eyes out. He held her to him tightly, wiping her tears away.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."

She shook her head. "Are you okay?" she asked him.

He nodded, but there was a coldness in his eyes that made Barbara shiver. What had tonight cost them?

"It's over, Jim," she said. "It's over."

"No, Barbara." She looked up at him sharply. He was already moving towards the door.

"Leave it, Jim. Let Batman find him. Please. Let's get the kids and get away from here!"

Jim sighed.

"He'll keep coming for me, Barbara. He'll never stop. Not until he wins his sick game. I have to finish it first, or we will never be safe."

She pulled on his arm, pleading with her eyes. He kissed her tenderly.

"Call the department. Don't move until the patrol car turns up. Go to the kids and wait for me. I'll join you later, sweetheart." He held her. "I love you."

And with that, he was gone. Barbara fell to the ground, her arms wrapped around herself for support.

"NO!"

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

**Hi again! Apologies for the lateness of this update, I've been so busy lately but have managed to sort it today as I and the entire South of the UK have been snowed in!!! Hope you like this chapter - only two more to go so we're gettting to the big finish now!**

**Thanks to the following reviewers: **

**SoldierToger: Thanks for reviewing, I'm glad you are enjoying the story. Hope you comment again :)**

**Star_The_Foxhound: Thanks, really cool that you like the story! I much prefer writing Gordon as strong, thats continuing in this chapter so hope you enjoy! Please review again :)**

**wolfbane17: Thanks for all the support, glad you like the angst, I do too! Enjoy!**

**Youni: Yay, thanks so much for reviewing again. Gordon has sorted himself out, he's in charge now! Enjoy this chapter and sorry for the delay!**

**Debussi: Thanks for commenting. and cheers for your kind words. Hope you like this update, please let me know.**

**As always, love and hugs to the fantastic gaudy_night for checking this through for me. She is made of so much win! Thank you honey!**

**Trail of blood **

**Part 8**

Gordon ran into the night following his crimson, red trail. He could see that the Joker was losing a lot of blood and therefore could not carry on forever. He would make for somewhere to hide. Gordon just hoped he would have a chance to finish the maniac before he could contact his gang. Jim had to end it tonight. His family would not be put in any more danger by the Joker. Not ever. Gordon would do whatever was necessary.

He stopped abruptly as a woman's shrill scream suddenly cut through the night. Dread filled him as he began to run towards the sound. He wasn't surprised at all to notice that the trail was leading him in the same direction. He ran down a dark alley, already preparing himself for whatever grim sight he was about to face.

It was worse than what he had expected.

He came to a sudden halt, and his breath caught in his throat when he took in the horrific scene before him. Two people were lying face down on the ground, their bodies positioned in unnatural angles. A man and a woman were lying side by side and had suffered numerous knife wounds. Gordon gazed down at them in horror, realizing to his grief how young the victims were. Perhaps even newlyweds in Gotham for a weekend break. And now their lives had been snuffed out for nothing. Jim swallowed down bile as he took in the amount of blood covering the bodies and also splattered on the wall and the floor. The poor couple been ripped apart and literally butchered. The attack must have taken them completely by surprise and judging by the ferocity of the wounds, it must have been over in seconds. Thank Goodness for small mercies.

The Joker had truly outdone himself this time, Gordon thought. He was sickened.

Stepping closer, Gordon covered his mouth with his hand. In some ways, this was his fault. The Joker shouldn't have been in this place at this time. Because of him, the Joker was hurt, hunted and desperate, and he had lashed out at innocent people.

"I'm sorry," Gordon whispered.

He turned away, no longer able to look at the gruesome horror before him. Gordon had been forced to visit so many horrific crime scenes in his career, but this one felt to close to home. This could so easily have been himself and Barbara. Jim knew he would have to find some help, preferably wave down a passing patrol car. He knew the procedures. He himself had put them in place. If he acted correctly, however, he would lose the Joker and the best chance he would ever have in catching the bastard. He was in two minds. He didn't want to leave the man and woman in this state—the two souls deserved some respect—but if he did see to them and the Joker escaped, how long would it be until he killed again? And those deaths would be on Jim's conscience, too.

Two beats passed. Gordon sighed. There was only one option. He would not leave these poor wretches to be picked apart by the scum of Gotham's streets. He began to walk back down the alley, ready to call out for assistance, when suddenly a gasping voice stopped him.

"Please... help us...."

One of them was still alive!

Gordon turned and ran back to the victims, a desperate hope flooding through him. He knelt beside the male who was now trying to open his eyes and actually attempting to reach for Gordon.

"My... wife..."

Gordon's heart broke. "Don't worry. Just lay still. What's your name?"

The man coughed, blood seeping out of his mouth. "Michael."

Gordon nodded encouragingly. "Okay, Michael. You're going to be just fine." He vainly attempted to steady the flow of blood flowing from the man's gaping wound in his neck, but it was useless and he knew it.

Tears fell from the man's bloodshot eyes as he moaned wearily. "Please... Emily..." Using what was clearly the last of his strength, Michael reached out and gripped Jim's hand. "Help her."

Gordon swallowed. He knew there was no helping this man. His injuries were too severe. It was only a matter of time. All Gordon could do was to be there for him.

"Don't worry about anything, Michael. Just you be still now."

"No," the dying man whispered. "Not Sarah… not my wife..."

Gordon was confused. He leaned in closer. "What is it? Go on."

"He took.... the clown..." Michael was fading fast.

"Yes?" Jim shook the man gently. "Tell me. What did he take?"

"He took... my daughter..."

Gordon froze. He stared at Michael horror struck. His daughter? Gordon didn't know what to say.

"Please." Michael whimpered.

The words were so soft now that Gordon could only lip read the man's final, desperate plea.

"Save her."

His hand slipped away from Jim's, and he lay still. Gordon fought back the tears as he placed the young man's hand on his wife's. What a pointless waste of two such young lives. And taking a young child away from her parents? A whole family had been torn apart and for what? For that psychotic freak's sick enjoyment.

"No more," Gordon muttered, his face determined. Leaping into action, Jim raced to the end of the alley, still following the trail of blood. He looked up and his heart skipped a beat. He could see a warehouse straight ahead and by the look of it, it was deserted.

The perfect hiding place...

Hurrying forward, Gordon stuffed his gun into his pocket when he saw he had to cross a busy street to get to the warehouse. He wondered how the Joker had made it past so many people, but then he realized people were just too concerned with their own lives to care. Just as the Joker so dearly loved to remind him. Gordon wanted to prove him wrong. The public care. As soon as he stepped out onto the crowded sidewalk, Gordon began to yell for assistance from anyone who was listening.

"Call the police! Two people have been murdered down there!"

"What's that, man?" A passer by hurried over to Gordon at once, looking concerned. "Did you say murder?"

"Call 911 now," Jim instructed the boy, relieved to have not been ignored. "Wait for a patrol car to show up. Tell them Gordon told you to call." He paused. "And don't let anyone go down there until the police get here." Another beat. "That includes you."

The young man nodded hurriedly, his cell phone already held to his ear. A small crowd was beginning to form. Gordon knew he had to move on. There was more at stake now then simply catching the demented Joker.

"Where you going?" The man demanded as Gordon went to run past him.

"I have to finish this!" Gordon told him and then raced onwards, his gaze fixed on the warehouse looming before him. The trail of blood still continued to show him the way. Judging by the amount of blood the Joker had lost, he would be in a bad way and therefore weaker than usual. Gordon would not let this opportunity pass him by.

One way or another, he would end it tonight.

XXX

Gordon entered the warehouse through a small side door, his gun held out in front of him and his senses ready. The building was pitch black, and it was dusty and stale. It was clear this property had not been used for a long time. Not until it was used as a murderer's hideout. And indeed, it was the perfect hiding place. Gordon frowned, trying to strain his eyes to see in the dark. He could tell that the warehouse was large and had two levels. The stench of dead wood and dampness filled his nostrils, causing his eyes to water. And he was aggrieved to find that another sensation swept through his being, a feeling he truly didn't want or need but would not leave him be. _Fear_. Facing the Joker in an arena like this, an arena with no light and with the scum already taking a child as a hostage—his enemy held all the aces.

Apart from the fact he was injured. And that was an advantage that Gordon meant to make the most of.

Slowly, Jim moved forward, one hand against a wall to help him along. His gun hand remained outstretched, his finger tightening on the trigger. He did not intend to be surprised. He knew that was the move the Joker was likely to make. He would want a face off, a way to humiliate Gordon. Jim would be damned if he gave the bastard another opportunity.

Feeling his way along, he was aware of steps in front of him leading upwards. Raising his foot gingerly, he began to climb. He reached out with his hand and found railing. Now confident he would not fall, he hurried his steps slightly, finally arriving at the top. He was relieved to discover a window on the upper level with moonlight shining into the cold property, giving him some much needed light. He looked around, his heart beating quickly, but could see no sign of the Joker or his small captive. He prepared to return to the ground floor and resume his search there when he was suddenly aware of wetness on his fingers. He brought his left hand up to his nose and sniffed. Blood. He had rediscovered the trail.

And his quarry was nearby.

At that moment, he heard a muffled sound. Reacting at once, he swung round in the direction of the noise, certain that it had been a child's pained cry. Both hands now holding his gun steady, he walked towards the sound.

The noise came again and Jim's heart was in his mouth. And when he heard that despised chuckle, he fought back the urge to fire immediately at the direction of the evil, knowing the Joker would happily use the girl as a shield if necessary. And if the little child died, Gordon would never forgive himself—and the Joker would never allow him to forget.

Swallowing down his fear, Gordon spoke to the darkness.

"I know you're here," he said quietly. "Come out."

More chuckling. Gordon bristled.

"Have you decided to show yourself as the true coward you are?" he snapped. "Stop hiding in the shadows and come out and face me."

"It doesn't take bravery to face you, Commissioner."

Gordon jumped though his gun hand didn't move.

The Joker suddenly appeared in the moonlight, pulling along the young terrified girl Gordon knew to be Emily. She appeared to be no older than three and was obviously terrified out of her mind. The Joker held her in front of him, gripping Emily painfully by her messy blond hair. She had her eyes tightly closed but was obviously crying and shaking in the madman's tight hold. Gordon glared hatefully at his foe.

The Joker smirked. "Once you've had a man on his knees in front of you, with your dick in his mouth, you tend to lose all respect for him." His grin grew ever wider. "Sorry!"

Gordon flushed. How desperately he wanted to wipe that hideous grin off of the bastard's face, but he somehow managed to keep his temper in check.

"Let the girl go."

A cruel smile. "I don't think so, no." The Joker waved a hand at Gordon, and Jim saw he was holding a blade that shone in the light. "Actually, I have a better idea." He placed the knife to the girl's throat, and she began to sob uncontrollably. "Why don't you put your gun down?"

"This isn't about the girl. It's between you and me. Why don't you let her leave safe and well and then we'll finish this—once and for all."

The Joker paused, seemingly thinking it over. At last, he replied. "Forgive me, Commissioner, but I'm actually under the impression that the moment I loosen my hold on this little cherub, you're going to shoot me down on the spot and maybe you won't miss this time." He placed his head on one side and his tongue licked the side of his mouth. "Hmm?"

Gordon swallowed. In that moment, after everything the Joker had put him through, Jim knew he spoke the truth. And he actually found himself ashamed. Is that what the Joker had turned him into? A desperate man seeking revenge at any cost? A murderer?

With a sinking feeling, he lowered his gun and then slowly placed it on the ground in front of him. He then straightened again, his gaze never leaving the Joker once.

The evil man chuckled.

"Good boy. I knew you could do it."

He released Emily, shoving her towards the wall, where the poor child curled up, her head buried into her folded arms. Gordon heard her small plea for "Mommy," and his heart broke. This tiny girl no longer had a mother, thanks to this heartless bastard. Gordon wouldn't let him ruin any more lives. He began to walk towards Emily but stopped short when the Joker placed himself between the girl and Gordon, his arms at his side, the cursed blade locked tightly in his right hand. He regarded Gordon, and the demented smile on his painted face was one of pure evil.

Jim frowned in understanding. It was clear the Joker was not going to let him take the child and depart.

Not without a fight.

"Ready to face your demons, Commissioner?" The Joker slurred. Even now, despite the bullet wound in his shoulder that was still dripping blood onto his clothes and the floor, he was still mocking Gordon and it made the other man's blood boil.

Was there no stopping this madman? Gordon would find a way.

The Commissioner clenched his fists.

"Oh, yes, I'm ready," he muttered and stepped forward to meet his smirking nemesis. He knew what he had to do. He would fulfill his promise.

_One way or another, it would end tonight._

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

**Well, I'm back. Sorry for yet another far too long wait, again real life took up to much of my time!**

**Okay, there are some warnings for this one - Violence, more sexual and physical assault, some naughty words and, most importantly, CHARACTER DEATH! I had a long think about whether to kill this character off but I felt there there was only one way this story could end, either good or evil wins. Which do you think it will be? Please don't hate me for killing this guy off, I actually love him but I didn't give myself a lot of choice. Please don't flame me! *begs.* I desparately want your feedback on this one. There's only one more chapter to go and then it's all over. I can't believe it's nearly done! It's been a long ride!**

**Star The Foxhound: Thanks for the review! I like it when Gordon is brave too :) I hope you like this chapter. Let me know.**

**Angst Is My Middle Name: Yay! You came back! I missed your reviews! Hope you enjoy thhis chapter, please let me know cos I'm a bit nervous about it!**

**Youni: Thank you for sticking with me all the way through this, I know it's been a long wait at times and I really appreciare all of your support! Enjoy this chapter!**

**debussi: Thanks for another review. Hope this doesn't disappoint! Enjoy :)**

**Okay, on we go!**

**~x~**

**Trail of Blood**

**Chapter 9**

Gordon was breathing hard, his fists clenched into balls at his side. He didn't take his eyes off of the sneering man standing before him. The Joker began to circle him, his sneer turning into a mocking smile.

"Fight to the death, is it, James?" the Joker taunted. "How very old-fashioned of you! Pistols at dawn!"

He laughed loudly, clearly very excited by the struggle that was to come. Jim wasn't surprised. Pain was what the Joker lived for; he got off on it.

"Scared, Commissioner?" The Joker taunted Gordon mercilessly while still circling around him like a hunter playing with his prey. "I'll make it quick for you, I promise."

Gordon didn't respond. He knew it would be a mistake to enter into a conversation with the nutcase. That was exactly what the Joker wanted. Gordon could not let his guard down for one moment, not if he wanted to live through this.

Both men stood straight, each sizing the other up. The only sound was the tiny child's soft crying. A beat passed and then, without warning, the Joker pounced.

Emily let out a frightened cry as the demented clown flew through the air toward Gordon. The Joker crashed into the other man, sending him tumbling to the floor and winding the Gordon painfully in the process. As Jim lay beneath his enemy, gasping for breath, he soon found himself trapped as the Joker pined him to the floor, grinning victoriously.

"That wasn't much of an effort, Commissioner. Gotta say, I'm disappointed."

As quick as a flash, the Joker lashed out at Gordon with his knife, slashing him through his shirt and cutting into his chest. Gordon let out a low hiss from the sudden pain. The Joker grinned, wiping some of Jim's blood onto his finger and then promptly bringing the finger up to his lips and licking it seductively, his eyes never leaving Gordon's face. Jim was sickened. He could feel the bile rising up inside him, and he forced it back down. Nothing this freak did should still have the power to shock him. He had become the Joker's favorite victim, the clown's human toy to use as and when he liked. Sexually or violently, it didn't matter to the Joker. Jim was his property.

Jim pursed his lips together. Victim? Not any longer.

"You... freak," he whispered quietly. The Joker stopped laughing abruptly, and he glared down at Gordon, who added; "You sick, twisted bastard."

The Joker raised the knife again, his eyes twinkling.

"Want me to put you out of your misery, Commissioner?" he drawled. As far as he was concerned, he was in charge. And he was beginning to realize that Gordon's entertainment value was drawing to a close.

Maybe it _was_ time to end the game.

Gordon's eyes were locked onto the knife. He knew there was no room for error. Just as the Joker began to bring the blade down, Jim reacted.

"Get the hell off of me, you son of a bitch!"

With a snarl, Gordon kicked out at the Joker, catching him in the groin. The madman let out a stunned shout and Jim took full advantage, hitting the Joker twice in the gut, and his foe fell to the ground beside Gordon, face screwed up in pain, cursing loudly.

Letting out a loud sigh, Jim dragged his aching body to his feet and stared down at his fallen foe, his face grim. The Joker smirked back up at him. With a rush of anger, Jim kicked the Joker hard in the head, feeling a flush of pleasure when the man grunted and finally laid still. Gordon was up in an instant. He didn't know how long the Joker would be out so he had to keep moving. He had to stay strong. If not for his own sake, then for the young girl hiding in the shadows. He was her only chance of escape. This poor child was not going to be the Joker's next kill. Gordon would not let that happen.

Having kicked the knife out of the Joker's reach, Jim hurried as quickly as he could toward the little girl who was still cowering in the corner, her arms covering her face. She was trembling from head to toe.

Gordon reached her and made to pick her up. She let out a loud gasp and scrambled away from him like a frightened animal.

Gordon backed off slightly.

"Don't be scared."

She shrunk away from him, obviously terrified. He frowned and glanced back over his shoulder, relieved to note the Joker still lay where he had fallen. He couldn't waste time. He had to get her out.

"Honey, I won't hurt you. You have to come with me now."

She moaned in fear, shaking her head desperately and trying to move farther away from him despite her back being pressed up against a wall. Gordon felt useless.

"You have to listen to me, Emily."

She stopped at the sound of her own name, unsure.

He tried again.

"Your name is Emily, isn't it? Am I right?" This time, she peeped at him over her hands. He smiled at her. "That's it. We need to leave here now. Please, come with me."

Emily moved her arms away and stared up at Gordon with her large, scared, blue eyes. He could see the pain and confusion there, and it nearly broke his heart. She reminded him of his own daughter. She was too young to be put through so much. He felt another spark of hate for the Joker.

"Daddy?" Emily whimpered.

Gordon swallowed hard. He had to keep it together.

He shook his head kindly. "No sweetheart, I'm sorry."

"Where's my mommy?"

He didn't know how to answer her. How could he begin to make her understand that her parents had been stolen from her by a madman who had ripped them to shreds for his own sick pleasure? He looked toward the Joker again. Still unmoving. Gordon considered, just for a moment, using the sicko's own knife against him, but he pushed that thought aside. He was not a murderer.

He was better than the Joker.

Gordon took hold of Emily's hand and squeezed it. "Please, trust me. You have to trust me. There's a bad man, and we have to get away from him. Don't be frightened. I won't let anyone hurt you." He smiled at her, touching her face gently. "Look at me, baby. You're safe with me." Very slowly and carefully, she held up both her arms to him. He nodded encouragingly. "Good girl." Just as Gordon took hold of Emily, ready to sweep the poor child up into his grasp, her eyes suddenly fixed on something behind him. Something terrifying. She began to whimper, once more recoiling away and slumping back down to the floor. Gordon realized too late what the problem was. As he whirled round, fear was already once more clutching his stomach. He found himself face-to-face with the Joker, and the clown was now frenzied and furious.

And holding a very large plank of wood.

Gordon paled. He had absolutely no chance or time to defend himself.

With a cry of "Bastard!", the Joker swung the weapon, striking Gordon in the face, sending the policeman flying. He lay on his stomach, trying to clear his head. Blood had spurted everywhere, and Jim knew his nose was broken. He looked up into the eyes of the horrified Emily.

"Close your eyes, sweetie," he whispered. "Don't watch."

He was relieved when she did as he asked, especially when he felt his ankles being grabbed by the Joker. He was dragged unceremoniously across the ground and then rolled over onto his back. He stared up at his enemy, his blood running cold at the sight before him. The Joker was crouched over him, the plank held in both hands and raised high above his head. The Joker's eyes were flaming, his hair sweaty, and his face splattered with Jim's blood. He looked like something out of a horror movie.

At that moment, Gordon realized that that was exactly what this was. His own private horror movie. And the Joker was the bogeyman.

With a yell of exhilaration, the Joker brought the wood down hard on Gordon twice, breaking a rib with each blow. He laughed, delirious from the pain he was causing, as Gordon writhed on floor at his feet. The policeman was in agony and the Joker loved it. He no longer cared about the burning he could feel from his own gunshot wound. No pain, no gain. That was simply a war wound. And he had won the battle just as he knew he would. And before he finally let this pathetic little man die, he would show him whom he belonged to, just one last time.

"Little girl!" the Joker called out, now addressing the devastated Emily. "You watch this and you look nice and closely. You might learn something."

Without a shriek of glee, the Joker grabbed at Gordon, taking hold of the other man's belt and undoing it quickly, leering down at the smaller man as he did so.

Jim gasped.

"No!"

The Joker only chuckled as he pulled the belt free and then wrenched down Gordon's trousers. Jim felt the sudden chill on his bare flesh and the same flush of shame he recognized only too well. He began to struggle in earnest, desperate to get away.

The Joker started to beat at Jim with the belt, causing the other man to cry out repeatedly. Gordon pulled himself to his knees, hopelessly trying to crawl away, but there was nowhere to go. Angry red welts soon appeared on Jim's back as the Joker continued to attack him with relish.

"Don't you understand," the Joker hissed in Jim's ear as he whipped him, "that every word you said back at your home meant nothing? This is what counts, you on your knees and me standing over you. Slave and Master." He threw the belt aside and leant in closer, hissing into Gordon's ear. "_This_ is what matters. You are mine and you always will be. You know it, Gordon. You'll never be free of me. I'm always there, always with you."

With a smirk, he forced his finger into Gordon's tight hole, delighting in his victim's cry of horror.

"Can you feel me now?"

Gordon cringed as the Joker withdrew his finger. He tensed as the hated man spread his legs. Jim knew what was going to happen next. He stayed perfectly still, knowing that if he fought, the worse it would be. If he let the Joker do what he wanted, maybe it would be over quickly. He opened his eyes slowly, trying to focus on any small shape in front of him, wanting to concentrate on anything but what the Joker was preparing to do behind him. The Joker could take his body over and over again, but not _him_. Not any more. He would disengage his brain and free himself that way and the Joker couldn't stop him. He heard the sound of the Joker pulling down his own trousers and took a deep breath.

_Let him do what he likes,_ Jim thought. _It will be all over in a heartbeat. The Joker can't win like this._

Gordon thought of Barbara. He saw long walks on beautiful spring days. He heard his son's cheeky laugh and his daughter's soft, birdsong voice. In his mind, he was with his family. He wasn't in that warehouse and the Joker wasn't positioned behind him, preparing to use Gordon once again. Jim was safe, he was loved, and he was a long, long way away from there.

The Joker's mocking laughter brought him swiftly back to reality.

"You think I don't know what you are trying to do, Commissioner?" he slurred. "It won't work. You are going to feel me inside of you and you," he paused, gripping the other man's hair and dragging his head back, before adding with an evil grin, "are going to love it!"

Gordon lowered his head. He knew the Joker was right. He was a filthy whore. Worse than that, he was the Joker's whore. And his life was very nearly over.

"Mine," the Joker hissed. "You're mine."

With that, he thrusted forward and penetrated Gordon with a shout of triumph.

The sensation of being entered just as before by this sickening animal bought Gordon back to his senses. And as he stared forward, feeling the Joker moving inside of him, he saw Emily's scared face in the shadows, watching him, horrified. She didn't understand what was happening, but she knew it was wrong. She edged closer, reaching out for Gordon, her face dirty from her tears.

Gordon was disgusted by himself. What was he doing? He would not give up to this bastard any more! He was stronger than that, and it was about time he proved it.

With a roar of "NO!", Gordon began to struggle ferociously, kicking out at the Joker with all his might. The Joker grunted as Gordon's blows hit home. Gordon struck out repeatedly until at last, the Joker released his hold on him and Gordon was able to scramble clear, leaving the Joker to stare after him in shock.

Dragging his trousers back up, Gordon jumped to his feet, his face set. He was bruised and battered and aching all over, but he had to ignore it. He would show no more weakness. He would fight, and this time, he would not lose. The Joker was still crouched on the floor, his hair wild, his eyes flashing. He was furious, particularly as he knew the pendulum was swinging more in Gordon's favor and that realization worried him. He stood slowly, hands at his sides, his eyes never leaving Gordon's. He trousers were still around his ankles, and he stroked his penis gently, a smile spreading across his face when he saw the disgust Jim was failing to conceal.

"What's wrong, Jim?" he asked with his familiar drawl. "You know you make me hot!"

Gordon could take no more. He threw himself at the Joker, knocking the other man back. He soon had the Joker on his knees before him. He proceeded to punch the Joker in the face repeatedly, raining down blow after blow on the evil man. His fists were black and blue from the effort but still he did not stop. He wanted the scum dead. He wanted the Joker lying at his feet in a pool of his own blood. He wanted to see the light go out of the Joker's eyes, and he damn well wanted to be the last thing the psycho would ever see.

"Please! I want to go home!"

The tiny voice behind him made Gordon pause. Fist still raised in the air and ready to deliver another telling hit, Gordon turned slowly, his breathing labored, and stared at the child who had left the shadows and was now gazing up at him with a mixture of fear and respect.

At that moment, loud sirens and flashing lights filled the warehouse, taking all three of them by surprise. Gordon tensed. Back up had arrived. They would storm the building in seconds and the Joker could panic.

Gordon, thrown by the arrival of his colleagues, was distracted and the Joker, realizing time was no longer on his side, took advantage. He shoved Gordon away and was up in a flash, scarpering across the room, aiming for the weapon that had been all but forgotten, Gordon's handgun. Jim saw the Joker's intention and lunged for the gun himself. And he was that tiny bit closer. He reached the weapon a split second before the Joker, grasped it and whirled around quickly, the gun aimed right between the Joker's eyes.

No one spoke a word. Emily, now too terrified to speak, watched the events with wide, fearful eyes. The Joker's eyes moved from the barrel of the gun so close to him he could lean forward and touch it and then turned his gaze to Gordon. Then he smiled. He straightened, pulled up, and fastened his trousers. Gordon watched him, breathing hard. The Joker faced him then, his hand by his sides, palms facing outwards. He was as still as a statue as he stood there, waiting.

Gordon trembled, the gun unsteady in his grip.

Could he finish this? The Joker was unarmed. It would be murder.

But then he could feel the Joker thrusting into him, controlling him, possessing him. He could hear his wife screaming his name as he had been forced to give the bastard a blowjob. He felt his shame and humiliation and his feeling of complete uselessness and his certainty that he would never, ever be free of the Joker.

All he had to do was pull the trigger. He, little Emily, and his family would all be out of this nightmare. He owed them that. He owed himself that.

What other choice did Gordon have? If he didn't finish it, this evil game would never end. The Joker stayed perfectly still, watching Gordon intently. It was almost as if his cold eyes were daring Gordon to go ahead and fire. To prove he was capable of murder, just like the Joker. Jim took a deep breath and steadied himself.

It was his duty.

Gordon's finger tightened on the trigger. The Joker's mocking grin widened.

Jim hesitated and cursed himself silently for being so weak.

He had to do it.

_Just pull the trigger. Wipe that smirk off of the bastard's face._

"Gordon."

Jim started. He recognized the low growl at once. He wanted to turn, to confront Batman and tell him to leave but he couldn't. If he took his eyes off of the Joker for one second, he would lose his advantage. He glanced to his right and saw Batman stepping out from the shadows, his dark eyes fixed on Gordon. Jim didn't need to see the man's face to feel the disappointment aimed squarely at him.

"What are you doing here?" Gordon threw at Batman.

The caped man frowned. "I told your men to keep back whilst I checked the situation. They are waiting for my signal. I don't think they will wait long."

Gordon scoffed. "_Now_, they care." He swayed on the spot, attempting to keep his cool. "How did you find me?"

"I saw Barbara at your house. I followed the blood trail and saw the flashing lights. I worked the rest out for myself."

The Joker, whilst this exchange was occuring, was literally jumping on the spot, apparently overcome with excitement at Batman's arrival.

"He likes to appear out of thin air, Gordon. He does it a lot." The Joker swung his arms to emphasize his point, still addressing Jim. "How does he do it? Spooky!"

Gordon responded only by waving his gun, warning the Joker to remain exactly where he was. Batman didn't even bother to look at the clown. His gaze remained on Gordon.

The commissioner glared angrily back.

"Stay away," he barked. "Don't interfere."

To Gordon's surprise, Batman did as he was asked and hung back.

"This is your call, Gordon," he replied. "He deserves to die and you have just cause to be the one to take his life." He stepped closer carefully, mindful not to agitate Gordon. "But be careful this is for justice and not revenge, Jim."

Gordon bristled. "Why shouldn't I get me some revenge? Huh?" Batman said nothing. Gordon glared and continued, "And what happens next if I do spare him?" Jim shook his head in dismay. "Shall I tell you then? He goes back to Arkham."

"That's the system. _Your_ system."

"Then _my_ system fails!" Gordon spat. "It failed _me_!" His voice cracked and he steadied himself before continuing, more quietly; "He'll escape again. You know he will. Don't you see? He'll never stop." He hung his head.

Batman eyed the Joker, who was watching their conversation closely, bouncing from one foot to another. He didn't act like a man waiting to find out whether he would live or die. In fact, he seemed exhilarated.

Batman once more addressed his friend. "We can't change fate, Gordon," he whispered. "If he escapes again, he escapes. We'll deal with that when and if it happens. Together."

Gordon was unimpressed. "You have the nerve to be righteous with me?" He rounded on Batman angrily. "_Where have you been this whole time_?"

Batman was taken aback. "I'm sorry. I've let you down, I know that. But I'm here now. And it's you I care about." He hesitated for a second before adding; "Only you."

Jim frowned and looked down at the gun in his grasp. "I could end this now."

"Then _do_ it!" the Joker demanded. His teeth were bared as he eyed Gordon with disdain. "Prove to the big bad bat what a great man you are!"

"Ignore him, Jim," Batman said, quickly. "_You_ make this decision, not him. Just be sure you are making it for the right reasons." He lowered his voice and Gordon could detect a note of pride. "And remember, you _are_ better than him. You've already beaten him at his own game. And finally, he realizes it."

The Joker guffawed. "Is that right? He's mine, Batsy. And he's just about to prove it to you. Do it now, Gordon. Kill me!"

Jim didn't move, his eyes locked on the weapon. He could feel the tears falling down his face, and he was embarrassed. He didn't want Batman to see him cry.

All he wanted to do was empty every bullet in his gun into the smirking Joker. It would be so simple. Simply aim and fire. But if he did, if he shot the Joker now, knowing it was what the Joker wanted, then he would be giving the Joker the victory he craved.

Gordon's hands shook. He wanted to kill the Joker. He wanted him gone. Every fibre of his being was telling him to shoot, to finish it on his terms. But there was something else. A voice. Deep, deep down inside of Gordon, a whisper was telling him to stop, to think. Because this was not on Gordon's terms at all, he was still obeying the Joker, still playing the deadly game of wits the Joker had forced him into.

Gordon would not be a plaything any longer. He would not give the Joker the satisfaction. The Joker would get what was coming to him but Gordon would be the one to choose how.

Very slowly and carefully, he lowered the gun and let out a deep and meaningful sigh. He had passed the test. He gave the Bat a grateful smile. Batman nodded, satisfied.

The Joker shouted out in fury, glowering at Gordon and Batman with hatred.

"I knew you were a coward!" he yelled, pointing accusingly at Gordon. "I _knew_ you didn't have it in you."

Jim raised an eyebrow. "Murder? You're right. I'm not capable of that." Jim's eyes darkened. "I'm not _you_, you freak."

The Joker shook with rage. "You and your rules. You're pathetic, both of you!" His eyes snapped to Batman. "I wanted to make life exciting for all of us, for the people of Gotham. But no, you're too good for that!" He edged backwards. "Well, the game isn't over."

Batman frowned. "Yes, it is. You are going back to Arkham, for life this time."

The Joker snorted.

"Wherever you put me, you won't hold me!" He grinned at Gordon. "I'll get out again and I'll come for you, Jimbo." He licked his lips. "There are always others like me out there, other agents of chaos. My work is never done!"

Batman approached the Joker carefully, ready to restrain him.

"Yes, it is. It's over. You're done!"

The Joker paused.

"Am I?" He asked Batman, his eyes glinting dangerously. "You think I would ever let you have the last word, Batsy?"

Without warning, the Joker suddenly sprang at Batman, throwing his whole weight into the caped figure, hurling him backwards. With Batman off balance, the Joker pressed home his advantage, pinning the Bat to the ground, pulling a knife out from his boot, and holding it to Batman's throat.

Batman froze, aware that the Joker was shaking with anger. Gordon went to run up behind the Joker, but Batman stopped his friend with a small shake of his head. One false move by him or Gordon, and the Joker was raging enough to massacre them both without any hesitation.

"I can't lose, the Joker spat. "This is my game. I call the shots!"

Batman said nothing. He looked up at the Joker with no emotion.

"Why don't I show you?" the Joker hissed.

The next chain of events seemed to happen in slow motion. The Joker, without warning, turned and threw the knife, not at Gordon, but at the tiny girl cowering in the corner of the room illuminated by the moonlight. The throw was solid and Emily let out a terrfied shriek and crumpled to the floor. Gordon, unable to see the damage that had occurred from where he stood, feared the worst. The Joker had added another victim this night. He had wiped out an entire family.

The Joker's mocking laughter filled the large room.

Unable to control his hate and disgust and reacting even faster than Batman, Jim didn't hesitate. He fired three times at the Joker at point blank range.

The Joker stopped laughing. Staring down at his chest, he saw three holes had appeared and blood was now oozing out of the wounds. He chuckled once, staggered backwards and fell to the ground, landing on his side, unmoving.

Gordon was on one knee, his gun arm outstretched, the weapon still smoking. With a crash, Gordon dropped the gun to the floor, still unable to take his eyes off of the Joker's prone form. Batman was back on his feet and leaning over the Joker, checking his status. He looked up at Gordon and then gestured for the shocked commissioner to approach.

After a moment, Gordon did so. He crouched down beside the Joker and quickly realized that one of the bullets had hit the man in his heart. The Joker was barely breathing, now lying in a pool of his own blood. He didn't have long.

Suddenly, the Joker's eyes snapped open. They were bloodshot and red but that fire, that cruelty, they were still there and aimed directly at Gordon. The dying man coughed up blood, chuckling madly.

With one last push of strength, the Joker grabbed at Gordon and pulled him closer.

"Well well. Then I do win after all, Commissioner;" he rasped. His eyes were shining with pleasure.

He laughed for the last time. And with a long breath, his hands slipped away from Gordon and he lay beside him, deathly still.

Gordon was numb. Batman placed a supportive hand on his friend's shoulder.

It was finally over.

The Joker was dead.

Gordon fell to his knees by the Joker's side, covered his face with his hands and began to sob.

Clearly unsure how to react to Gordon's distress, Batman hurried over to where Emily had fallen and gently turned the girl over.

And then he heard it. A gentle sobbing.

She was still alive! The knife had whipped past her, catching her shoulder and drawing blood and had bedded itself into the wall behind her. It had missed her by inches. She was in shock, bleeding and terrified but she would survive. Batman did not know how this girl had come to be involved or where she was from but he knew she was important to Gordon. They had been through a lot that night. Hurling the nearly unconscious girl into his arms and trying to keep her as calm as possible, Batman rushed back over to Gordon.

"He missed her, Jim. She'll be okay. Just a flesh wound."

Gordon looked up at Batman as if he couldn't believe his ears. He seemed too scared to look at Emily in case he had misheard. When he did see her little face gazing down at him, Gordon jumped to his feet, grabbed the child from Batman and clung to her. He felt that if he let her go, even softened his grip, then he would find he was mistaken and the Joker would have claimed another innocent life.

The Joker had failed. He had lost.

Gordon buried his face in Emily's hair, the tears coming to him once again. He wondered if they would ever stop.

Batman placed both his hands on Gordon's shoulders, trying to comfort the other man any way he could.

"It's all over. He's gone," Batman whispered.

"I had no choice," Gordon replied bluntly.

"No," Batman agreed. "You didn't, Jim. He can't hurt you anymore." He ran a hand through Jim's hair and the shaking man did not pull away. Gordon heard Batman call out to the waiting police, waiting in the shadows, to move forward. Gordon wondered how long they had been there? There would be difficult questions to answer but Jim was prepared. He would never regret ridding Gotham and the world of such an evil monster.

Gordon wiped his eyes and then reached out to Batman. The Bat grasped his hand and held it, giving the other man the strength he desperately needed.

They both stayed there, staring down at the Joker, his grinning face looking upwards, looking but never to see again. That gruesome smile would be forever scarring his skin. Now in death, he was more terrifying then ever. The only sounds were the approaching footsteps of the men mingled with the quiet sobs of the little orphan as she clung to Gordon, hiding her face away from the smiling corpse laying at their feet.

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

**Authors Note: Okay, this is it then! The last chapter. I can't quite believe it. It's been quite a hard slog but I got there in the end! For everyone who has reviewed and read this story and enjoyed it, thank you so much! I know I've kept you all waiting a long time between updates. I couldn't have finished this without your support. I really hope you like the last chapter and please let me know!**

**Special Thanks to: **

**Star the Foxhound – Thanks so much! I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter, and the story as a whole. I always wanted the story to be about Gordon's recovery and fight; I always wanted him to win at the end. I just wasn't sure I did the right thing in killing the Joker so I'm glad you liked it. Thanks again for all of your support and the brilliant reviews. I so hope you like the conclusion – please, please let me know!**

**DXRULES103 – Definitely not mad! ;D I'm glad you liked it, thanks very much for reviewing again. Enjoy the ending; I hope it's not a let down! Thanks for all of your support, it is so much appreciated! ******

**Uadjet – WOW, thank you! The rape stuff has been hard to write but I really wanted to convey just how strong Gordon is and how he didn't give up, no matter what the Joker did to him. And, he won in the end. You'll soon find out about the Joker. He is dead but he isn't gone, not just yet. And yep, there is some comfort to come! I hope you like the conclusion and please give me your verdict on it!**

**Youni – Well, what can I say! My most loyal reviewer! Thanks so much hun. You have reviewed every chapter and have waited so patiently; I know it must have been frustrating. Enchanting? Wow, thank you! I hope you like the ending and you better tell me what you think! Thanks so much for all of your amazing support; it's meant the world to me!**

**Angst is my middle name – THANK YOU! And thanks for all the comments. They were all great! Enjoy the ending; I hope it's not a disappointment! X**

**Right then, here we go! Enjoy!**

**Trail of Blood **

**Chapter 10**

_Three Months Later_

Finally, the report was complete. Gordon hit the last button on his keyboard and with a bleep; the document he had been staring at for weeks was done. He closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, stretching. A noise behind him startled him, and he quickly spun round on his chair. A cleaner gaped back at him, polish and rag in her hand. He gave her an apologetic smile and glanced at his watch as she continued to work around him, whistling some jolly tune.

Gordon jumped. Dammit! Twenty to eight. He'd worked far too late again. Barbara would not be impressed. The rest of the department must have left him a while ago, not that he would have noticed of course. He would have been oblivious to the world ending while he was writing his report. But now it was over. The whole sorry story, saved and stored and ready to be filed away with the rest.

If only the same thing could have happened inside Gordon's head. If only he could forget.

It had been three months. Three months since the worst ordeal of his life had finally ended and the Joker had breathed his last. At Gordon's own hand. Jim had won and the world had celebrated. Jim had received a bravery award from the mayor. The whole of Gotham had basically turned out to applaud and cheer him. And he had sat there, scared and bemused, and then his fellow officers had pulled him to his feet. They had demanded a speech and he had obliged, muttering some nonsense about "doing his job." That had been only two weeks after the Joker's death and after that, Gordon's life had changed. He was suddenly popular. Everyone had wanted to know him, to congratulate him. But Gordon had never wanted that kind of attention. All he had ever wanted to do was just his job. But the invitations to the parties had started then, and they just kept on coming. Balls, masquerades, parties in his honor. Jim had not enjoyed one, but he had made the best of it. Barbara seemed to revel in the glamour, and he was pleased she was relaxed and happy. She had been through a lot, just as he had.

They both deserved their time in the limelight.

Only Gordon just didn't want it. Every word of congratulations from these strangers was another reminder for him of what he had been put through. And to be constantly reminded of it was something he didn't need.

All these men and women who clapped as he entered a room and fussed around him—where were they when the Joker targeted Gordon and declared a personal war on him? Where was their support when Gordon truly needed it, when he had felt so alone? Where was the mayor's trust when Gordon had told him that the Joker had survived that fire and was out there, plotting revenge? Not one person had wanted to help him and Barbara then. No one had wanted to know them.

Well, someone had.

Gordon let out a big sigh as he slowly pulled himself up from his chair. The station was of course deserted apart from himself and a cleaner. All his fellow officers had packed up and headed home long ago. That was how Gordon liked it. Nice and quiet. Just him and his thoughts. After all, the station is where it had all started all those months ago. The night the Joker had come for him.

So many of his colleagues, many of them so young with new and promising careers ahead of them, had violently died, been injured, or had watched friends being slaughtered. So many of his colleagues had been changed forever in that one night. Those men and women had died for nothing. They had just been pawns in a sick, little man's twisted game. It wasn't only Gordon who had suffered because of the Joker. Jim knew that too well. And he had tried his best to help those families through their own tough times. Once he had been in any fit state to help them, obviously. He had visited them all, young families ripped apart by the Joker's evil, mothers' and fathers' lives ruined because their child was dead or crippled. Gordon swallowed hard. He had been through a horrific time. That was true. But meeting those poor people had made him see that it could have been a whole lot worse for him and his family.

Losing the kids or Barbara would have finished Gordon. Thank goodness the Joker never worked out that he was playing the wrong game.

Pulling his overcoat on, Gordon hurried toward the exit, nodding to the cleaning lady as he walked by her.

"Good evening, Commissioner," she whispered, before turning her attention back to the desk she was busy tidying. Gordon watched her for a moment, unable to stop himself and wondering what this woman really thought of the man who stood before her. The whole city knew of his ordeal at the hands of the Joker, and everyone had an opinion on him. Though some had celebrated him and treated him as a hero, others had pitied him. Some had even blamed or belittled him. Certain Gotham citizens had even believed that Gordon was not worthy of his job and that a braver, less easily controlled man should be in charge of Gotham's police force. They thought of him as weak, but even now in his heart, Gordon couldn't blame them. He had allowed the Joker to crawl beneath his skin, and a stronger man would have prevented that.

The cleaner sensed that Gordon's eyes were still upon her, and she glanced at him. Gordon blushed and went to turn away, but before he could, the pretty, young woman flashed him a beautiful, warm smile. Gordon couldn't help but return it. He realized how silly his thoughts were and how much they betrayed him. As if this young Mexican woman could care less about Jim Gordon's problems and concerns. She probably had enough of her own!

It was time Gordon remembered that the world did not revolve around him.

With that sobering thought, he rushed out of the station, allowing the door to slam noisily behind him, not knowing that the young woman gazed after him with an ever-growing look of sympathy.

XXX

Gordon walked briskly, his head down as he hurried back to the car park. The streets were nearly deserted, a fact that both unnerved and pleased him. When the streets were busy, there was always someone who wanted to stop him and thank him for dispatching the Joker and how he had made their lives safer and easier. All Gordon could ever do was smile politely and excuse himself as quickly as possible. In truth, he envied these people. Most of them had never had the misfortune of personally meeting the Joker or even being touched by his evil. And yet, all they ever wanted to talk about was how _their_ lives had been saved by Gordon's actions. They never asked how he was or how sorry they were for all he had been through. That never ever came up and Gordon couldn't really blame them. They didn't care about him or his feelings. They were just relieved his gun had fired those bullets into a man they had all feared. Gordon had removed a big problem, and that was all the people cared about. The man himself didn't matter to them.

If only they knew how fortunate they were.

Because Gordon knew it would never be over for him. Doctors and psychiatrists had all told him that in time, the nightmares would leave him and that horrible feeling of panic that grew inside him would become easier to live with. Gordon knew they had been honest with him, but he wondered when that would happen. When would it all become easier? When would the Joker's face stop leering down over him every time he closed his eyes?

How much longer could he go on like this? And how much longer would Barbara put up with him?

Without even realizing it, Gordon had entered the car park and was quickly moving toward his car, still lost in his own thoughts. He absentmindedly dug around in his pockets for his keys, suddenly realizing how similar this situation was to him. He was reminded of another time he had been alone in this car park, terrified of his own shadow and petrified that the Joker would return for him. Reason told him that now he was perfectly safe; the Joker would never come for him again. He was dead. Gone. Gordon had won. It was over.

Then why was that feeling growing once more deep within him? That horrible panic that he couldn't contain. And the terrifying sensation that he was being watched.

Gordon stared hard into the darkness, trying to focus, but it was useless. He couldn't see a thing in the pitch-blackness. If someone was there, watching and waiting, there was no way Gordon would spot him. He swallowed hard. This was insane!

_The Joker is dead_, he told himself. _He can't hurt me. I killed him. _

Gordon gasped. Was there a noise? Could he hear something, growing louder and getting closer, coming at him from the darkness?

Could he hear a cold, cruel chuckle? And, he wondered ominously, was it getting louder?

Gordon closed his eyes just as his doctor had encouraged him to do when his panic engulfed him.

_The Joker is dead. The Joker is dead._

He opened his eyes and cried out. The Joker stood before him, his evil smile wide and mocking. A knife was grasped in his right hand, dripping fresh blood onto the ground.

"You're dead," Gordon said out loud. "You're not here. This is all in my mind."

The Joker laughed softly. "Are you sure about that, Commissioner?"

That voice. The voice that Jim hated more than life itself.

"You think this is over, Gordon? It will never be over! This is my game!"

Gordon closed his eyes tightly once more. He could still hear the Joker laughing, and the sound was getting closer and closer until he knew the Joker was a hair's length away from him. Gordon began to tremble.

All Gordon could see in his mind's eye was the Joker's leering face, teeth bared. He could feel the Joker's hands on him, claiming him. And all he could hear was that same evil mocking laughter. The Joker had come back for him just as Gordon knew he would. Gordon was going to die. The Joker would win, and all Jim would know for the rest of his life was screaming and blood and the pain.

Even in death, the Joker would not stop.

"Are you scared, Commissioner?"

Jim was aware that he could almost reach out and touch the Joker. Every sensation was telling him that the Joker was indeed there and wanting his revenge. But how could he be? Gordon didn't believe in ghosts, and the Joker was hardly the undead! Was he?

"You're mine, Gordon. I told you, _I win_!"

Gordon shouted out in his fury. "You're not real!"

The laughter came again. Gordon couldn't prevent himself. He screamed into the night.

"LEAVE ME ALONE!"

"Gordon."

Jim froze. Now what? That voice didn't belong to the Joker. And the laughter had stopped.

"Jim." The voice came again, soft and encouraging. "Open your eyes. It's all right."

After a moment's hesitation, Gordon complied. And saw Batman standing mere feet away from him.

"Are you okay, Jim?" Batman inquired gruffly.

"You spying on me?" Jim retorted bluntly.

Batman ignored this remark. "I was... in the area. You seemed upset."

Gordon waved his words away. "A waking nightmare. That's all. I'm fine."

Batman frowned. "You saw him. The Joker?"

Jim chuckled under his breath. "You say that as if it's something new to me. I always see him. And it doesn't mean I'm losing my mind—just in case you were wondering." Gordon stepped back, his face grim. "So if you were considering carrying me off to Arkham for seeing dead psychos, you can think again."

Batman shook his head. "Don't worry, Gordon. I don't want to carry you off anywhere."

Jim couldn't help but be amused by that remark despite the annoyance that he was still feeling.

"Then why are you here? Did Barbara tell you to keep tabs on me?"

"I haven't seen Barbara for weeks, Gordon." Batman hesitated before adding, "I wanted to make sure you were doing okay. You're my friend."

Gordon coughed, now embarrassed. "Well, the last time you saw me was only a few weeks after the Joker's death. Unsurprisingly, I was in a bit of a state back then. I admit that!" He glowered. "I don't need your concern though. I hope that I've proved that to you over these last few months."

Batman was silent for a moment. "You look better, Gordon."

Gordon chuckled. "Do I?" He moved his hand through his hair. "Actually, I don't feel it." He sighed. "I feel," he looked down, not wanting to meet Batman's eyes, "spent and tired."

"You need to give yourself time to recover," Batman said gently. "You were strong enough to survive the Joker's attacks, Jim. Not many would have made it through. Now you need to move on. And you will. Just be patient. Take your time."

Gordon stuck his hands on his hips and glared up at the cloaked figure before him.

"Yeah, well, that would be fine. Apart from life won't wait for me to come to terms with what that bastard did to me. I've got a job to do. And as you may have heard, some new Joker copycat has already begun a crime wave in the city banks. He's already committed robbery and assault, and he likes to play games—just like his hero."

Batman blinked. "Who?"

Gordon tutted. "I knew you weren't interested."

Batman frowned. "You haven't called me. The people of Gotham don't fear me so much now. If you need me—"

"The signal is still busted," Gordon cut across him. "Going back up on that roof is not something I'm rushing to do!" His exasperation got the better of him and he snapped, "Hell, even the thought of sending other people up there to deal with the damned thing makes me want to crawl away and die!" There was a beat and then, shamed by his outburst, Gordon looked away before adding, softly, "Or, have you forgotten what happened to me?"

Batman winced. Not sure how to respond, he changed the subject quickly. "This criminal, tell me more."

Gordon swallowed hard before replying, "He's a thief who has a very unique calling card, leaving clues, word games." He smirked. "And pretty good ones at that."

Batman considered for a few moments and then nodded his understanding. "The man with the riddles."

Gordon nodded. "Some new freak turns up and thinks that he can continue where the Joker left off. Well, he's got a surprise coming to him, I can promise you that." His voice grew louder as he became more agitated. "He'll come to a messy end—just like the Joker before him."

Batman was thoughtful. "I'm not so sure we can connect this "Riddler" to the Joker. His style of crime is very different. He does what he does for kicks but mainly for the money, much like your usual kind of criminal. He doesn't want to kill and maim to spread chaos and become infamous." He lowered his voice. "Gordon, he isn't the Joker."

At that comment, Jim saw red and turned on Batman angrily.

"You think I don't know that!"

Batman didn't reply, which only agitated Gordon further.

"I killed the Joker!" Jim breathed. "I watched him bleed to death, and he breathed his last while lying at my feet. I damn well know he's dead!"

Batman didn't move. He merely continued to watch Gordon closely.

"I want to get on with my life!" Gordon snapped. "I just want to carry on and leave the Joker behind."

Finally Batman responded. "Killing this new threat won't take away your memories and fears of the Joker, Gordon. This is a new man, a new challenge. You have to let the Joker go. Once you can do that, then you'll be free."

"Don't preach to me, Batman. I told you—"

"I'm not preaching, Jim." His manner was calming, and Gordon could feel his anger subsiding. "I want to help you. I admire you. You have been doing so well, but you have to believe in yourself or you'll never move on. He's gone. He won't be back. It is over, Jim. You won. You need to realize that and accept it."

Gordon took a deep breath and gave Batman a small smile.

"I just want to carry on with my life," he repeated.

Batman smiled. "Then do it. You fought that bastard so hard for the right to live your life. So complete your victory over him and _live it_."

Gordon said nothing. He seemed to think over Batman's words. Finally he said very softly, "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For being here, I guess. I appreciate it."

Batman nodded and watched silently as Jim walked to his car, unlocked it, and climbed into the drivers seat. Gordon gave Batman a gentle smile and a small wave, which Batman returned.

"If you need me, Gordon—"

Jim laughed quietly. "Don't worry. I'll call you. First thing tomorrow, I'll get out on that roof and fix that signal of yours. Don't want you to get bored now, do we?"

Batman smiled, a wry grin in the corner of his mouth, and then he sprang into action. In a heartbeat, he was gone, leaping away into the night. Just like Jim himself, he always had work to do. Gordon was struck again by how grateful he was to have this man as an ally. He certainly would never like to have Batman as an enemy.

Gordon let out a big sigh as he started his engine and his car roared into life. He pressed a button and his headlights lit up the dark car park. He half-expected to see the Joker standing between his car and the exit, and he let out a big sigh of relief. For now at least, his imagination was not playing cruel tricks on him.

He pulled out of his parking space and drove carefully out of the underground building, his mood already improved since his discussion with Batman. Just to know that the giant bat had not given up on him gave Gordon the added strength he needed to keep on. And the knowledge that he would be seeing his wife and kids very soon was the other boost he needed.

With the help of those who loved him, he would get through this. He may not be over the Joker yet, but Batman was right. All he needed was time.

The Joker would not haunt him forever. Gordon would keep on fighting him just as he always had done while the freak had lived.

And although it would take a lot of patience, courage, and effort on his part, Jim Gordon knew that some day, he would get there.

- The End -


End file.
